Vengeance is Mine
by Ridley C. James
Summary: Becoming The Triad was years in the making. Just when the boys think things have taken a turn for the better, they realize that accepting their positions was only the beginning.
1. Chapter 1

Vengeance is Mine

By: Ridley

Beta: Tidia

Summary: Becoming The Triad was years in the making. Just when the boys think things have taken a turn for the better, they realize that accepting their positions was only the beginning.

A/N: The last two stories focused on Caleb and Dean. I wrote this one hoping to show the workings of The Triad on their first job since formally accepting their positions. Joshua's story by Tidia will come next, and don't worry, Sam's story we saved for last! It will be our season finale. Reviews are always welcomed and so appreciated!

RCJ

_Do not take revenge, dear friends, but leave room for God's wrath. For it is written, "Vengeance belongs to me. I will pay them back, declares the Lord."-The Bible_

"Oh yeah," Dean moaned with pleasure as warm hands slid over his slick skin. He closed his eyes reveling in the firm strokes. "That's it."

"You're exceptionally stiff today."

Dean was glad he was facing the floor, his head cradled in the weird table contraption. Marla would not have approved of the lurid grin. He was beginning to think the old bitty never smiled, but her hands were amazing. "You try being the head of a secret organization dedicated to protecting the world from evil during the apocalypse and see how limp noodle you can get."

Marla dug her elbow into Dean's upper back, leaning her weight into it as she rolled it over knotted muscles. "Have you been using the rub I suggested?"

"Mmmm." Dean was noncommittal. The balm Marla gave him smelled like rose petals and peppermint. He would rather live with the pain than have Sam find out. His brother assumed Dean was out making time with some chick. It wasn't exactly a lie. The only reason Dean had agreed to Mac's suggestion, taking the former Scholar's appointment with the legendary Marla the Magnificent was because Mac swore not to breathe a word to Caleb or Sam.

"You would be surprised at the powerful men who heed my advice." Marla made it to his neck, her fingers kneading into muscle. "Pride can be such a detriment to your gender."

Dean groaned, not wanting to think about Marla's clientele or her philosophy on men. He hoped she would cut the chatter and let the Sounds of the Serengeti CD fill the room. Dean hated to admit the massage was his new second favorite way to deal with the stress of the job. On the table, sometimes he could let himself drift away to a place the sounds of Hell were distant and he didn't see Jo and Ellen's faces.

"Harder?" Marla asked.

"Have your way with me, sweetheart."

Pain flared from the base of his skull. Dean thought the massage therapist had found the recent injury from the battle with the wraith. His back and ribs were still tender from the fight. The chill racing along his spine gave him cause to rethink.

The phantom ache spread over his back, heavy like a flack jacket, the bulk of it finally coming to rest in the pit of his stomach as dense as lead. Marla's touch disappeared and her anxious voice sounded close to his ear.

"Mr. Winchester? Are you all right? Was that too much?"

Dean pushed against the table, not caring if the sheet covering his body fell past his hips. His right hand tingled, the burning sensation localized at the base of his ring finger. He looked down, his silver band glowed brightly back at him and he knew whatever had just happened had absolutely nothing to do with Marla's heavy touch or an old injury. This was Guardian mojo. "Shit."

Dean grabbed his phone from where it lay on top of the pile of clothes. He hit speed dial as he slipped on his jeans, ignoring the reprimanding look Marla gave him. Cell phones were encouraged to be left off while in her van/mobile work area, but she made an exception for special clients. Dean growled when Sam's voicemail picked up. He tried Caleb next, another aching dread rippling through him as his best friend's phone went to a recorded message. _'The person you are calling is not…"_

"Goddamnit." Dean pulled his tee shirt over his head, grabbing his leather jacket. Something was wrong.

"I suppose we're rescheduling for next week then?" Marla began putting her oils away.

"I'll have my people call your people." Dean bent to shove his feet in his boots. He couldn't believe how much things had changed in the last month since he officially took on the role as The Guardian. Dean not only had people, he had a standing late night weekly appointment with a woman who wasn't a hooker but a roving masseuse. On the other hand his brother and best friend were in some kind of serious trouble. Some things in his life would never change.

Silas Fox picked up on the first ring and Dean didn't give him a chance to speak. "Where are you?"

"_In New York." _

"Is Mac at home?" Dean dug his keys out of his jacket pocket as he made his way out of Marla's trailer. The Illinois air was biting cold after lying on the heated table.

"_He and Esme are having dinner." _

"Do you have a visual?" Dean jogged to the Impala.

"_Yes." _

"I don't suppose Caleb is joining them?"Even as he asked he knew The knight could not have made it to New York from Bobby's. Dean opened the door, the cold leather sapping the last of the warmth from his body.

"_No. Is there something wrong? Should I interrupt them?" _

He hesitated. It was second nature to turn to The Scholar, but Mac was no longer in that position. Old habits were hard to break. "Not yet, but make sure you stay close." Dean requested Silas stay on as extra protection for Mackland at least until the apocalypse was straightened out. He refused to have his own security detail, insisting that the new Triad was completely capable of watching each other's backs. He was beginning to question that decision.

"_I will." _

Joshua was Dean's next call, answering on the second ring with a breathy anticipation.

"_What's wrong?" _

"What? Are you psychic now?" Dean started the Impala, cranking the heater to fight off the eartly winter chill.

"_No. I didn't expect to hear from you." _

"Girl Friday told you where I was?" Dean detected the hedging, heard whispering in the background. Carolyn was proving herself an asset in the day to day running of Brotherhood business, but her loyalty to her fiancé was a pain in the ass.

"_I might have accessed Carolyn's calendar on her Blackberry by accident." _

"Or my business might have been pillow talk. Don't you two have better things to discuss, like setting a date for the happy occasion?"

"_Why aren't you where you're supposed to be?"_

"Something's happened to Caleb and Sam…at least I think so." Dean pulled out of the parking lot. He headed towards Geneva where he and Sam had been investigating the Fabyan Windmill after a recent phantom mauling.

"_You don't know for sure?" _

"I can't reach either of them by phone." Dean wished he hadn't been so quick to dump the research of the Fabyan family and their beloved pet bears, Tom and Jerry on his brother.

"_Although atypical, I'm not sure it's cause for immediate alarm." _

"I had a strange feeling while Marla was working her magic." Dean knew both Sam and Caleb had experienced something akin to mental alarm bells when he had been tortured by Rose. Other Triads had documented situations when they had inexplicably known another member was in jeopardy or in dire straights. Mackland only recently shared with them he knew the exact moment when his own Guardian and Knight had died. Dean tried not to think about it, filing it away under all the other psychic freakiness woven in their lives.

"_It's not unusual for men to experience certain 'sensations' during massage…" _

"A Triad kind of feeling, asshole."

"_Right. Where are you?" _

"Illinois, a little suburb outside Chicago. I'm not far from the motel where I dropped Sam."

"_When is the last time you spoke with Caleb?" _

"Early this morning. He was going to Mac's place." Dean turned on the wipers as it started to rain. He thought he saw a couple flakes of snow mix in.

"_I don't think you should go back to the motel alone. This could be a trap." _

Dean couldn't help but to think of the last trap that had been laid for them. Jo and Ellen had paid the ultimate price. "I'm not waiting for back up. You're in D.C."

"_Carolyn could find someone closer." _

"There's not time. Sam could still be there." A different kind of intuition whispered to Dean that wasn't the case, but he shoved it aside in hopes of catching a lucky break.

"_So could Lucifer, Michael, or a host of others waiting to get the drop on you. At least call Castiel and have him meet you there. I mean it, Dean. Do not go there alone. "_

Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter. Joshua was determined to rain on his attempt at optimism. "Is it me or are you sounding more like your little brother every day?" Dean had not grown tired of taunting Caleb or Joshua about their official sibling status. "Pretty soon you'll be tossing around nicknames and…"

"_I'm going to the airport. Carolyn has a contact at Dulles. I can get a quick flight anywhere you need me to be." _

Dean heard the distinct shuffle of papers, imagined Joshua stuffing files into his big black man purse. Carolyn's voice was clear now, more than likely already on the phone arranging for Joshua's flight. Her employment with the federal government had its perks. "I'm surprised she can't get you a ride on Air Force One."

"_I'll inform Mackland and Bobby that there could be trouble." _

"You do that." Dean sighed imagining the spin the PR king would apply. He was glad to hand off the responsibility. "I'll be in touch."

"_Make sure that you are because as far as I know Advisors are not included in The Triad's clairvoyant equivalent of an Amber Alert." _

"Right." Dean cut the connection, squeezing his right hand into a fist. His ring finger pulsed with an echo of energy, like the shaky feeling after an accidental brush against the electric fence at the farm. He took a slow, steady breath and hit the number five on his speed dial. Castiel answered before the phone had a chance to ring.

The Corinaldo Motel was nicer than most places Dean and Sam tended to stay, a quaint tidy place for a quaint tidy town. The busted and splintered door was more auspicious in the setting; the smear of blood on the white panel door more ominous.

"This isn't the work of angels. The blood is human. I can't be sure it's Sam's."

"Yeah." Dean studied the muddy boot prints on the beige carpet. There were several sets; a couple looked like a woman's. The room was trashed as if it had been haphazardly searched. The only thing untouched was Sam's laptop. It was sitting open on the table with his cell phone, a cold cup of coffee and half-eaten sandwich arranged beside it. Then there was the cloth he'd found by Sam's overturned chair, it was damp, stinking of something stomach turning sweet that had made Dean's head spin when he'd taken a deep breath. No supernatural being he knew used chloroform. "Zach and entourage aren't exactly the black bag, motorcycle gang type."

"It rules out Lucifer also. If he had discovered Sam's location and wanted to take him, he wouldn't have needed accomplices or medicinal agents."

Dean wasn't sure if the observation was to make him feel better or worse. "Demons? Maybe Crowley thinks taking Sam out is a way to spoil Lucifer's agenda, or maybe they're after me." Dean knew Lucifer's minions were gunning for him. He was a double threat. Michael's meat suit and The Guardian of The Brotherhood.

"The salt line was breached," Castiel pointed out what Dean first noticed upon entering the room. "Demons would not have been able to cross."

Dean twisted the ring on his finger. He was grasping at straws. "I know."

Castiel lifted his chin, his nose wrinkling. "This was something else."

Dean frowned. "What?"

"They have an odd scent. Something I've not encountered before."

Dean lifted a brow. "Eau du kidnapper?"

"They're not human-not exactly."

"That leaves a lot of territory wide open, Cas. You're not exactly Captain Worldly." Turns out angels knew very little about other creatures roaming the vastness of earth.

"It isn't as repugnant as demon." Castiel walked the length of the room. "But somehow similar."

"Demon-like?"

"Not like Caleb," Castiel said, unaware his comparison was insulting. "This is more pronounced."

Dean was spared defending his best friend by the ringing of his cell. He pulled it from his jacket pocket. "Bobby?"

"_Where you at?" _

"Motel. Sammy's been taken."

"_Yeah. Slick filled me in on what's going down. Think I might just have gotten a hit from my police scanner. You're not going to like it." _

That was beginning to be the theme of the evening. "Tell me."

"_One of the patrolmen a couple of counties over was called out on a farmer's vandalism complaint. Seems the old guy went out to check his livestock this evening and discovered someone ran a fancy car with New York plates through his fence line. Bandit left the scene of the crime without his vehicle." _

"Damien." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damn."

"_There was no sign of the driver, but the car was ransacked and the driver's door was torn off. The rookie was real excited about finding the equivalent of Bruce Wayne's car in bumfuck Athens. As of a few minutes ago Barney Fife hadn't yet figured out how to spring the compartment in the back." _

"Thank God for small favors." Dean glanced at Castiel, who was watching him. He knew the angel could hear what was being said on the other end. "Can you get someone to tow it in before they discover Batman's stash of secret weapons?"

"_I know a guy from the impound yard." _

"Of course you do."

"_Any idea who or what's behind this?" _

"Our room's been searched. The bastards left footprints and somebody was bleeding. Looks like they used chloroform to take Sammy out, but Castiel doesn't think they were human or demon."

"_That narrows down the list of suspects a bit." _

"What the hell is going on, Bobby?" Dean could understand demons, minions of Lucifer. They were constantly vigilant against Zachariah, but this caught him off guard.

"_Did you have typical protection in place?" _

"Nothing fancy. Run of the mill demon defense," Dean admitted. "We just blew into town, looking into some rabid animal spirits."

"_Then it could have been a number of things from a fucking ghoul to a shape shifter, although I've never heard of them being so methodic." _

"They don't run in packs either. I'm telling you there were at least six of them here and they weren't just interested in grabbing Sammy. They were looking for something."

"_I know a certain trouble in semi- human form that does travel in packs or nests rather." _

"Shit." Dean rubbed his eyes, his mind not as quick to take the same leap as Bobby's. "Vampires?"

"Immortals? Like the Cullens?" Castiel's interest was piqued. He frowned. "I didn't imagine Rosalie would reek of death."

Dean rolled his eyes at the angel. He had not had _Twilight_ in mind when he suggested the library as a good place for Castiel to pick up more information on the typical supernatural forces they dealt with. Caleb found it far too amusing that Dean's guardian angel had the literary tastes of a thirteen year old girl. "What the hell would vampires want with Sam and Caleb?"

"_I have an idea. You better call Mac, Kid." _

Dean didn't like Bobby's tone, or that Mac insisted they travel Angel Airways, despite Dean's sensitive colon. Cas could get Dean and Bobby to New York faster than any contact at the airlines or the Ames's jet. Dean was mollified he wouldn't be the only one to suffer, but Bobby seemed nonplussed by the prospect.

"Have you heard anything?" Dean asked as Silas opened the door of the New York condo for them. Dean had given Castiel instructions not to rematerialize or whatever the hell it was he did inside the high rise. Dropping them in unexpected with hunters in security mode was not a good idea. Castiel might be bullet proof; Dean and Bobby were not.

"Joshua's flight will be arriving shortly," Silas said. He motioned them in. "Mac is sending a car for him. He's in the kitchen."

"Good."

Bobby propelled his way toward the dining room, called by the aroma of coffee and beef. Esme had been thoughtful enough to leave the table set with clean plates and an array of food. Mackland was the only one waiting to greet them. He was on the phone, but waved a hand that they should sit. Bobby didn't hesitate, rolling his chair up to an empty spot where a seat had been removed.

Dean hovered, tuning an ear into the former Scholar's conversation.

"I understand, Missouri," Mac was saying. "I know you're concerned. We'll keep in touch, I promise."

"What did the Wicked Witch of Kansas want?" Bobby managed to scoop potatoes onto his plate and slide the rolls his way. "She have any clue as to where Dorothy and Toto might be?"

"Missouri had a disturbing vision."

"Is there any other kind of vision?" Dean closed the distance between him and Mac. He hadn't seen the former Scholar since the Triad ceremony, but had kept in touch with him via phone and Sam's Facebook page.

The older man reached out and pulled him in for a hard hug. "No. I suppose there isn't."

Dean pulled back, pushing the brass compass he had dug out of his brother's things into Mac's palm. The doctor's psychic gift was not as bleak as death visions and often offered hope. "Speaking of which."

"I already tried telemetry with one of Caleb's old journals." Mac took the compass, closing his fingers over it with a weary exhale. He closed his eyes. "I'm getting the same thing. I know they're alive, but I'm unable to get any kind of images. Why that is, I'm not sure."

Mackland offered the instrument back to Dean, stepping around him to acknowledge Castiel. He extended his hand to the angel. "I'm not sure how to greet a messenger of the Lord, especially in one's humble home, but it is an honor to finally meet you, Castiel. Thank you for helping us, for all you've done for Dean. I'm Mackland Ames."

"I know who you are." Castiel hesitated briefly before shaking the doctor's hand. "Dean thinks highly of you."

"Please," Mac gestured to a chair beside Bobby, "have a seat."

"What about Missouri's vision?" Dean slid the compass back into his pocket. It had been a long shot at best, but he was disappointed Mackland was unable to get more than a sense of Sam or Damien.

"She believes it was a distress call from Caleb." Mackland moved to the counter, retrieving a fresh pot of coffee, which he brought to the table.

Dean pulled one of the empty mugs in his direction. "Damien was able to send her a psychic S.O.S.?"

"Or he instinctively reached out to any help in the area, possibly hoping to connect with Sam. Missouri saw a flash of cars, the faces of several men she didn't recognize. There was a woman with them also. She picked up on Caleb's anger, then everything went black."

Dean waited for Mac to fill his and Bobby's cup. Castiel declined the doctor's offer. "So tell me about the vampires."

Mac took a seat, glancing to Bobby before facing Dean. "We don't know for sure we're dealing with vampires."

"Bobby seemed to think it was a good possibility." Dean had to admit it was a leap of logic, but he didn't have any other way to explain the number of perps, or the chloroform. "Why would that be an obvious conclusion for him to draw?"

"Bobby is on dinner break." Bobby concentrated on his plate when Mac's gray gaze swiveled to him.

"Mac?" Dean pushed.

Mackland picked up his coffee, staring at the dark brew for a moment before facing Dean. "There was an incident with a nest of vampires last year when you weren't with us. It prompted me to have an intervention with Caleb and Sam, but I'm afraid I put my foot down a little too late."

"Sam and Caleb tangled with some blood suckers while I was in Hell?" Dean knew his brother and Caleb had hunted together, assumed their new passion for bowling had not been enough to keep them busy.

"Mangled would be a better word," Bobby spoke around a mouth of green beans.

"I thought Bobby was on his dinner break." Mackland frowned at the mechanic.

"No point sugar coating it just because we have company." Bobby pointed his fork at Castiel. "From what we've seen of angels so far, his kind appreciates a good smiting."

"What exactly did they do?" Dean looked to Mackland.

"It was bad timing." The doctor ran a finger over his brow. "Rufus turned them onto a nest of vampires living and feeding in the Pittsburg area, Oakland, I believe. They were using a bar as cover, several college students had gone missing. Caleb and Sam went in and took care of the problem."

"And?" Dean leaned his elbows on the table.

"They did it with gusto." Bobby resumed his eating. "Rufus said it was like throwing chum into shark infested waters. He had to burn the place to the ground to cover their tracks."

"So you think this is revenge?" Dean ran possible scenarios through his head, the worst one being that the vampires might do the unthinkable and try to change his brother and Caleb.

"Vampires are very protective of their territory," Castiel interjected. "They can also be extremely loyal to their brethren. Perhaps the vampire council has been alerted of this transgression."

"If this were a Stephen Minor novel, Cas, that might be true," Dean said. The vampires Dean knew were concerned only with their own nests. They stayed more solitary to fly under the radar, keeping themselves out of the crosshairs of The Brotherhood.

"Stephanie Meyers," Castiel corrected.

"Whatever." Dean glared at the angel. "The vamps we're talking about aren't cohesive enough to care about what happens to someone else's nest. If Caleb and Sam wiped out a family of them they only opened up more territory for another group to move in."

"A few years ago I might have agreed with that," Mac said. "Over the last year we've noticed a shift in their behavior. With the apocalypse at hand and now Lucifer walking the earth, their patterns have become odd."

"What do you mean?" Dean had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer. His last dealings with vampires had been while he and Sam were separated. It had been a quick, one man job.

"Mac's trying to tell you the blood suckers got themselves a union and their very own Jimmy Hoffa." Bobby grabbed another piece of bread. "They're organizing."

"You're kidding me. A vampire revolution?" It sounded like a novel, or the subplot of a bad television show.

"There have been rumblings in the covens," Mac said. "It seems that the vampires have decided there is safety in numbers, and that if they are going to survive Armageddon they need to have a new battle plan, which includes some inner structure."

"Wait, why the hell would the covens be in the know about a bunch of bloodsuckers?" Mac may have worked hard to align forces with the covens, but Dean would never completely trust them.

"Witches and vampires have a great history, Dean." Mac had taken on his Scholar tone. Apparently, it would not be going into retirement. "Vampires often courted and seduced witches and mystics for their abilities."

"They are intrigued by humans with gifts," Castiel added. "It makes them more interesting when they are changed."

"Exactly," Mackland said. "In the past the vampires have used witch talents to help cloak and protect them from other humans when they were most vulnerable offering in return the reward of immortality."

"And if it's one thing the witches know about it's that power comes in sticking together," Bobby said. "Lone wolves are shunned in their world. The covens have a hierarchy and inner structure rivaling The Brotherhood. They've learned to watch over and govern their own to prevent exposure to the normal world."

"Are you telling me that vampires and witches are working together?"

"Possibly," Mac said. "No one is admitting to anything. Right now it is all speculation and hearsay."

"Why am I just now hearing about this?"

"We haven't exactly had the time to sit down and talk about all The Brotherhood irons in the fire, Son. The Guardian has had his plate full with more important issues. I told you I would maintain the day to day workings, which include research and recon."

"The Guardian has managed to lose two-thirds of his Triad, Mac." Dean ran a hand through his hair. "I knew this job would suck."

"Perhaps the vampires are looking for leverage, a way to align with the new power seat of The Brotherhood?" Castiel suggested. "This may not be about revenge."

"You're not helping, Cas," Dean growled.

"He could be right," Mac said. "They would not be the first to attempt such a thing."

"Taking on The Brotherhood would be the last thing a floundering militia of the undead would want to try. Our ranks far outnumber theirs. We would obliterate them."

"Hasn't kept North Korea from poking the tiger," Bobby muttered.

"Shut up, Ironsides."

Bobby put his spoon down. "Before you go and get your undies in a bunch, John Junior, look at this from the point that at least we know some witches that we can talk to. Hell, your Advisor has a prefect in with them. It's not like there are a long line of vampire contacts we can run down."

"I know one." Dean ran a hand through his hair, trying to control his temper. He could feel all the knots Marla had worked out earlier regrouping along his shoulders. He pushed away from the table. "She owes me a favor."

Mac stood. "Dean?"

"Have Joshua start on the witch connection when he gets here. I'm going to introduce Cas to his first live member of the undead." He hoped Lenore hadn't gotten her union card.

**To be continued…**


	2. Chapter 2

Vengeance is Mine

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Thanks to all those who took the time to review! This story is going to be a little longer than usual because Tidia and I are tying up things in The Brotherhood, completing our five year arc. I appreciate all the readers that have hung in there over the years, and I love to hear what you think about where we are going! Remember, only two more stories left!

Thanks to Lee and Tara for their read throughs and suggestions. They helped make this story better!

RCJ

The rocking woke him, its motion unfamiliar, too harsh for the comforting sensation he was used to of rolling along the highways in the Impala. Sam blinked trying to focus his bleary gaze. Wherever he was it was dark, loud and drafty. He was on a cold hard surface that was in motion. His body was sluggish to respond, a heavy cloak clung to his thoughts. The realization of his vulnerability suddenly clawed its way to the surface. As if he had received an ear-splitting command from his father, Sam's reflexes kicked in to spurn him to move. Sitting caused everything to spin precariously.

"Sam?"

He struggled unsuccessfully to get to his feet, his momentum only resulting in a searing pain in his shoulders. His hands were cuffed, a long chain anchoring him to a wall. He groaned, swallowing hard to keep from throwing up.

"Quick movements are _not_ a good idea, Runt."

Sam turned his head towards the voice, a little of his panic fading as familiarity sank in. "Caleb."

"Take it easy." The sound of metal grating against metal echoed nearby. Sam's first thought was of the ghost of Marley from _The Christmas Carol_. He had caught the end of the old version a few nights back when Dean was in the shower. "I'm here."

"Where's here?" Sam's mouth was dry, his voice scratchy.

"A train…I think. I haven't had much chance to do any exploring." Caleb sounded closer, but Sam still couldn't see him. He felt the psychic's presence in his mind. "I wouldn't count on it being _The Polar Express_."

"What the hell happened?" Sam took a deep breath to slow his clamoring heart. His eyes started to adjust. Caleb was now a wavering shadow against the inky black of their hold. The Knight was only a couple of feet in front of him, just close enough to brush his fingertips against Sam's hands.

"Vampires." Caleb was on his knees. Sam could make out the matching handcuffs on his wrists, the chain keeping the older hunter from his side.

"Vampires? What?" He and Dean had been hunting ghost bears. "That doesn't sound right."

"I got a reading on them as soon as one of the bastards touched me. Their brain patterns are distinctive." Caleb lifted his arm. "The bite marks on my wrist cleared up any doubts I had."

Sam looked down at his own arm, noticing the stark white pressure bandage for the first time. "Shit."

"Yeah. Bastards fed off us. That's why you feel like crap."

"I don't understand …" Since when were vampires polite enough to bandage their victims.

"I'm guessing they didn't want us to bleed to death, like putting a cork in a wine bottle."

"No. I mean, why take us?" Sam searched his memory to recall how he had landed in the current situation. It hurt to concentrate. His thoughts felt disconnected, like various scattered jigsaw pieces. He couldn't fit them together into a logical picture. Nothing Caleb said was making sense.

"I don't know."

"Dean? Is he here?"

"No." Caleb sighed. Sam could detect anger, worry, below the surface of The Knight's forced calm. "I can't sense him…though I nearly fried a circuit reading you. I'm guessing they know enough about psychics to know without energy, we're going to have to do things the normal way. Feeding off us, keeps us weak."

"Great."

"Any other injuries I should know about?"

Sam took stock. Besides the faint throbbing in his head and arm, nothing screamed for attention. His chained hands were uncomfortable. He was tired and cold, but he was seemingly in one piece. "I think I'm okay. You?"

"Pissed as hell."

"Sounds about right."

Caleb removed his touch from Sam, scooting back to put some slack in the chain binding him to the adjacent wall. "What do you remember?"

"I was at the motel in Geneva; Dean went out. I stayed in to research our case."

"Right. Deuce's worst nightmare gig-bear spirits."

Sam rubbed his temple, slowly fitting together the jumbled fragments. He had been working in the motel room. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end before the door was kicked in. "There were four or five of them. Maybe more. They were fast."

"Same with me."

"Where did they get you?" Dean had talked to Caleb earlier in the evening. The Knight had been at the junkyard.

"Not far from Bobby's." Caleb sighed. "Sonsofbitches came out of nowhere. Two cars boxed me in, ran me off the road. They didn't give me time to do much of anything. I managed to get off a distress signal. That was about it."

Sam perked up at the idea of a possible rescue. "Do you think anyone got it?"

"You tell me, Runt."

"Sorry. I've not exactly been working on extending my range." Since assuming the role of Scholar, Sam had noticed a boost in his abilities. Caleb tried to convince him it was his innate gift kicking in, not a talent created by Yellow Eyes. Sam wanted to believe before his encounter with Azazel he was destined to be The Scholar all along, but the new power frightened him, and he worked on reigning in his abilities.

"Considering you're chained next to me I don't think you would have been much help."

"Right." Sam lifted his arm, the added weight of the shackle making it a difficult feat. "Did you get any kind of sense for what they might be planning?"

"No. Like I said, they didn't give me much time."

"Could they be working for the demons? Lucifer?" Sam's head pounded with the implications.

"I don't think so. We know how Lucifer feels about demons. I imagine he has a greater loathing for anything further down on the food chain. Vampires are basically super strong humans with better senses and no expiration date. They would be the equivalent of gum on the bottom of his shoe."

"Or could this be about Dean? The bounty on his head?"

"If that were the case, they could have grabbed Deuce."

"Then why not just kill us when they had the opportunity?" Sam couldn't help to think of the last encounter he and Caleb had experienced with vampires. It had not been one of their finer moments.

"Considering our past dealings, maybe a swift death wouldn't quench their thirst." Caleb was thinking the same.

Sam's arm tingled beneath the bandage. The idea of something drinking his blood was disturbing on many levels, yet it had a ring of karmic justice. His darkest thoughts turned to the pediatric nurse locked in the trunk of Ruby's car. It was her screams he heard when he was in drawn to the dark place.

"Don't go there, Runt," Caleb said. "That's in the past. We're good."

Sam bit his lip. He didn't believe it was that easy, but felt he was on the right track to finding a place where he could make peace with it. "You think this is about revenge? Are they crazy enough to take on The Triad? It would start a war they couldn't hope to win."

"We're already at war. Maybe they're merely taking advantage of the fact."

Caleb was right. The Brotherhood ranks were spread thin, casualties and losses mounting. Sam leaned against the wall, his head aching. "Why a train? Where could they be taking us?"

Caleb brought a hand up to rub his eyes. "I have no clue about the box car ride or destination, but if they keep us moving we're that much harder to find."

"Did you recognize any of the vamps?"

"No. Why would I?" He massaged his temples, wincing. "We cleaned that Pittsburgh nest out. There were no survivors."

"You're not making me feel any better." Sam sometimes longed for the days when Caleb and Dean could bluff him into believing any outrageous tale, especially the kind where they all lived happily ever after. "You okay?"

"My head's pounding."

Sam winced. "Mine, too."

They shared a quick look. Several loud thumps echoed overhead. Sam scrambled to his knees, Caleb attempting the same. "Something's on the roof."

"Vampires." Caleb pulled against his restraints to get as close to Sam as possible. "I can feel them now."

Sam reached out, searching for what Caleb had latched onto. Most of the energy he detected was coming from Caleb, but something darker slithered on the perimeter of his senses. It wasn't like the feeling he encountered with another psychic, it was a distinct source different from humans.

He didn't have time to ponder the peculiarity as the metal door to their car was opened. It screeched in protest. Cold air rushed in. Sam caught a glimpse of blurred scenery, city lights, and then two hulking forms filled the opening. They moved inside. A third swung in from above, landing in a crouch a few feet from Sam. Another followed, sliding the door closed behind him.

"Well, well. We thought we heard chitchatting in here. You're awake." The one who spoke had an accent. His speech was carefully drawn out. Sam could barely see his features in the darkness, only able to recognize his considerable girth. Vampires heightened senses gave them an advantage. Their eyesight was more cat-like than human, hearing and ranges of smell like that of a bloodhound. "We were hoping you would rest comfortably until we arrived at our final destination. "

"It's hard to sleep with all the noise and the draft." Caleb tugged at his metal bracelets, keeping close to Sam. "Not to mention the kinky S&M motif. We won't be recommending your railways to our friends."

"I suppose we should have provided more fitting accommodations for members of The Triad." The vampire moved closer to Caleb and Sam as the others spread out around them. Sam could see his distinctive red hair now, the cobalt blue of his glowing eyes. "But we're used to moving cargo without a pulse. Right, boys?"

"This little show of bad manners will cost you and your buddies your heads," Caleb said

"We're in the delivery business. We were simply following orders. Surely The Brotherhood understands such protocol."

"Whose orders?" Sam asked. It was eerie to have the creatures surround them like helpless prey, lurking in the corners of the cramped box like recluse spiders in a darkened closet.

"You'll find out soon enough, Scholar. We aren't far from home now."

"Why let it get that far?" Sam said. "You and your buddies could let us go now before it all gets bloody. You haven't done anything that can't be ignored."

"Yet," Caleb added. "Although sipping on us like your own personal cocktail is walking a very thin line, Asshole."

"Call me Liam." The vampire knelt in front of Caleb. "Don't worry about the feeding, Reaves. Humans can lose up to two thirds of their blood volume and still survive. I imagine that applies to your kind too."

"Fuck you," Caleb snarled.

Liam brought his fingers to his lips with a lurid smile. "I must admit it was hard for me to show restraint with you. Demon blood is a rare treat."

Sam sensed Caleb's intention a moment before The Knight made a move for his boot. He came up empty handed, but that didn't stop him from lunging for Liam's throat.

The big vampire moved lightning fast withdrawing Caleb's knife from the folds of his jacket. Liam held The Dragon's Talon against Caleb's throat. "Looking for this? I hear it can kill anything, even a demon."

"Works well enough on your kind," Caleb said coldly. He didn't move. "Spares me the trouble of cutting their heads off."

"It's pretty-make a nice gift for my girlfriend." Liam smirked, returning the blade to the inside of his coat. He rocked back on his heels. "You really didn't expect us to show mercy did you? Like what you two showed to that nest of our kin when you destroyed them last year?"

"How about showing that you might hold some shred of intelligence?" Sam knew Liam was toying with them.

"Or at the least that your self preservations instincts are stronger than that of your cousin the mosquito," Caleb added.

Liam's smile faded. "Those are brave words for someone chained, weakened and defenseless in the presence of superior warriors."

"Superior warriors?" Caleb snorted. "I hate to break it to you, Liam, but you're not on a Hollywood set. This isn't an HBO original series. Here in the real world we're still top of the food chain, and vampires are fair game."

"That is about to come to an end. The lion will no longer be king. The jungle will go to the jackals."

"You mean jackasses?"

Sam wished Caleb would hone his own self preservation instincts. He had no idea what the vampires were planning, but antagonizing them further wasn't going to help the situation. "If you had wanted to kill us, you would have done so by now."

"Dead cargo is real quiet cargo," Caleb said.

Sam risked the headache, reaching out telepathically to the other psychic. _'Stop giving them ideas.'_

"So is unconscious cargo." Liam tilted his head. "Boys."

The other vampires moved so quickly Sam registered only a blur. They surrounded Caleb, pinning him to the floor.

"No!" Sam struggled with his restraints, twisting his wrists against the metal cuffs to free himself. He felt his skin tear but the bracelets held firm. "Don't do this."

"Get off me," Caleb bucked, unsuccessful in dislodging any of the creatures who now held him down. One of the vampires reached up and ripped his shirt, exposing his shoulder and upper chest.

"Caleb!" Sam continued to try and get his hands loose as Liam knelt beside The Knight.

"Don't worry, Scholar, we'll put you out of your misery next."

"Touch him and I will rip your head off myself. No magical blade needed." Caleb struggled harder as Liam grabbed his chin. "I swear I will end you!"

"I won't drain him completely. I have my orders after all." Liam smiled, his face contorting to reveal his true form. White fangs descended as he bent closer to Caleb. "That doesn't mean I won't make it hurt."

Caleb cried out as the vampire sank his teeth into the flesh above his clavicle only inches away from his tender throat. Sam wrestled with his chains, taking solace in the punishment he was inflicting on his wrists as Caleb suffered a much worse fate not three feet away from him.

"Stop it!" he shouted. "That's enough!"

The vampires ignored him and it didn't take long before Caleb's struggles slowly ceased. Sam could still sense The Knight's presence through their link he now held wide open, but the pain that pounded through overshadowed the fact Caleb lived. The smell of blood turned Sam's stomach, simultaneously eliciting a different kind of response that sickened him more.

Liam's face was smeared with red when he turned his gaze on Sam, baring his bloodied fangs. "There's nothing quite like it, is there? We're not so different, Winchester."

"I'm nothing like you." Sam scooted back as Liam left Caleb's limp body to stalk towards him. The others stayed hovered around Caleb, taking their turn. He had no idea how or why the vampires knew about what he had done in his pursuit to kill Lilith. A hysterical laugh almost bubbled through as he thought of Liam as a closet Carver Edlund fan.

"There is one difference." Sam squirmed as Liam reached for him. The strength in the vampire's hand was crushing, gripping Sam's shoulder as he placed his other hand around Sam's throat, squeezing hard enough that Sam felt a thumping in his head. He steeled himself with the thought that the vampires didn't want them dead. Sam would survive whatever happened.

Liam's black eyes locked with his. "You have a pulse. Your heart beats, mine doesn't. I feed off others to survive. You can't say the same."

"Go to Hell." Sam's breath hitched.

"That's not an option for me." Liam smiled. "But I hear it's quite the certainty for you."

The last thing Sam remembered was the fear surging through him, a burning pain along his shoulder as Liam attacked, and the echo of his brother's name as he silently called out for him. _'Dean.'_

RCJ

Dean stumbled on a clump of dirt in the dark open field, Castiel's firm grip the only thing keeping him on his feet.

"Dean?"

Dean slowly brought his hands from his head, blinked the angel's face into view. "Damn it."

"What is it?"

"Sammy." Dean straightened as the sensation receded. It left him feeling sick to his stomach; his legs wobbly like he'd ran five miles.

"Did you see them?"

"No. It doesn't work that way. I just feel them-know that something's happening to them. Something bad." Dean wished he would have a vision, like what Andy had sent him when Sam was trapped in Cold Oak. It would at least offer some kind of clue to where his brother and best friend were. If Merlin really wanted to give them a leg up, why not offer that magic.

Mac had concluded the silver was somehow involved in the process, but it was anyone's guess. The doctor theorized that the pain Dean was feeling was some sort of telepathic backwash and that in time 'the warning signal' would be more like an intuitive feeling, a tug on his subconscious instead of a knifing sensation. It didn't help that Dean wasn't psychic. He hoped The Triad connection, he was just beginning to experience, wouldn't be called into need that often.

"It's similar with angels." Castiel waited until he was steady before letting go of his shoulders. He took a step back out of Dean's personal space, gazing at the small white clapboard house in the distance. "When one of my brothers dies, I feel it. We are all intricately connected. It's one of the many gifts from our Father."

"I'm not sold on the whole _gift_ thing." Dean appreciated the idea he was connected to Sam and Caleb on a whole new level, although he had never needed The Triad or Merlin's magic to feel responsible for their safety. He was garnering a new appreciation for what Caleb experienced on a daily basis, and was glad Scholar and Knight made up the whole of his psychic friends and family network.

"Some blessings are hard to understand and accept."

"Pastor Jim would have loved chatting up philosophy with you, Cas. I'm more into immediate, concrete rewards." Dean took a breath, gathering his wits about him. "When this 'gift' acts like a homing beacon taking me to Sam and Caleb like your GPS brought us here to Alabama to see Lenore, then we'll talk."

"I have traced demons before, but never vampires. I wasn't sure they were real before sensing them at the motel."

"Tell me about it. I almost busted a gut the first time Dad gave us the low down on the blood suckers." Dean started for Lenore's place. Castiel offered to take them directly into the house, but Dean wanted to try a friendlier route, hoping to cash in on old favors.

"There are several here now." Castiel's eyes went from the house to the barn. "They are not mentioned in my Father's Book."

"Don't feel bad, Cas. Dad didn't put vamps in his journal either." Dean couldn't help drawing parallels that kept being pointed out to them by both sides. He knew the whole spin was convenience on Lucifer's part, but it wouldn't have been so effective if there weren't threads of truth. "Parents have that whole need to know thing going on."

The angel lifted his head as a lonesome baying echoed from the homestead. "Do werewolves work with vampires?"

"What does your hero Stephanie Meyer say about that?" Dean pulled his gun from its holster, checking the new rounds. It had been Bobby's idea to fill the exploding shells with dead man's blood. It wouldn't kill, but it sure as hell would slow the bastards down. The mechanic was finding interesting ways to fill his new found time.

"In her books vampires and werewolves are unwilling allies."

"My dad always said war makes strange bedfellows."

"She makes werewolves sound much like The Brotherhood, minus the fact you don't morph into wild animals."

"Withhold judgment." Dean replaced the gun, hoping he wouldn't need it. "You haven't seen us at Thanksgiving dinner."

"These vampires have guards posted," Castiel said. "They've caught your scent and are planning an ambush."

Dean wasn't surprised. Only humans were ignorant of what was taking place around them. "Once a vampire gets a whiff of you, they don't forget. They have much better noses than their dogs. Sam and I have dealt with this particular nest before."

"And you let them live?"

"They aren't your typical vampires. They feed off animals instead of humans."

"So they are like the Cullens?"

"Do the Cullens mutilate cows?" Dean gestured to the pasture fields, where a healthy herd of cattle was grazing. There were goats intermixed, and even a couple of pigs. It looked as if Lenore and clan had taken a green approach, growing their own food source.

"They prefer swifter game such as deer and mountain lion."

"Then don't expect your mad crush Rosalie to come to the door." Dean grinned at the angel. "Let me do all the talking. I don't trust your golden tongue after our little night in the whore house."

They were greeted by Castiel's werewolves, which turned out to be two friendly lop-eared hounds and a poodle that looked strangely out of place. Dean hoped they were pets and not some kind of bloodsucker delicacy. The vampires let them get to the front porch of the house before making their move. Dean removed his gun, but kept it in a neutral position as he and Castiel were surrounded.

"Hunters aren't welcome here."

The vampire who spoke was a dark haired guy about Dean's size. Dean didn't recognize any of the glowering faces. Sam dealt with the vampires, first when he was kidnapped, and then when he returned Lenore after Gordon's torture session. He had mentioned Lenore's mate, Eli. Dean took a chance. "Are you Eli?"

"Maybe."

Dean considered that an affirmative. "Tell Lenore that Dean Winchester wants to talk to her."

"Why?" The vampire motioned for the others to stay back as he took a step closer to Dean. "We have no stake in Brotherhood business. We want to be left alone. You have no right to come here. We've done nothing."

Dean cocked a brow. "I didn't say this had to do with The Brotherhood."

"You're a hunter." He quickly pointed to Dean's ring. "And not just any hunter, Winchester. You're _the_ hunter. We've all heard of the recent coronation."

"I wasn't aware vampires kept up on the supernatural social scene." Dean tightened his grip on the gun, surprised news traveled so fast and among those on the very fringes of the shadowy world.

"It pays to keep up on what the enemy is doing, but you'll have to forgive me if I don't offer my congratulations."

"I'm not here for you to kiss my ring." Dean glanced at Castiel, who was studying the vampires with quiet fascination. "We just want some information."

Eli rubbed his chin. "That's asking a lot don't you think?"

"If I remember right, my brother and I saved your girl's life." Dean counted eight vampires in all, two of them women. There would be no way he could take them all out with individual shots if they decided to push a confrontation, but he wasn't leaving without answers. "We went against one of our own in doing so."

"If I remember right you helped kill my best friend, Conrad and then celebrated with your buddies." Eli's eyes blackened, his fangs extending. "I forsook a brother by not exacting revenge for his death."

Dean licked his lips. There wasn't much he could say to that. "Tell Lenore I'll owe her one-that The Guardian will owe her one."

Eli growled low in his throat. Dean tensed, feeling Castiel's fingers brush against his jacket. "Tell her yourself."

Lenore appeared from behind two of the other vampires, leaving Dean unsure if she had been there all along. "Dean."

"Lenore." He relaxed his stance as the pretty brunette stepped into the glow of the porch lights. "You don't seem surprised to see me."

"No good deed goes unpaid." She moved closer to them. "I expected you would come calling some day."

"You know why we're here?"

"I've heard rumors."

"For a bunch of hayseed Alabama farmers, you and your boyfriend seem to be in the know." Lenore's hands gave away her nervousness. Dean watched her run her fingers over the charms of her gold bracelet.

"We've made friends through the years." Lenore gestured to the house. "Shall we talk inside?"

Dean shook his head. These might have been vegetarian vampires but he still didn't like the idea of going into an enclosed space with a pack of them. "I'd rather we didn't."

"Surely you don't think we want trouble?"

"It's beginning to look like some of your kind might."

"Not us." Lenore held his gaze. "We want to live in peace. It's all we ask."

"That's a tall order in times like these, sweetheart. Either you pick a side, or you end up collateral damage. There is no safe ground."

"Are you saying you can protect us?" Lenore brought her hand to her throat, where a small black stone on a silver chain rested against the base of her neck.

"I can promise you that no one under my order will harm you or your nest."

"And the angel?" Lenore's gaze went to Castiel. "Will his kind follow your lead?"

Castiel frowned. "You know what I am?"

"I do." Lenore's eyes glistened, reminding Dean of the way Becky, Chuck's crazy assistant gazed at Sam. "You're an angel of the Lord."

"You stink of myrrh," Eli said. "We smelled you before the hunter."

Castiel looked suddenly unsure. He glanced to Dean, who shrugged. "Could explain why Boo's always sniffing you."

"Ignore, Eli. You're scent is like the air after a summer thunderstorm."

"This is Castiel." Dean looked from Lenore to the angel, seeing an opportunity he hadn't expected. "He's rogue at the moment, so we can't speak for his brethren, but even a fallen angel is a damn good ally."

"One angel is more than I ever expected." Lenore extended her hand to Castiel. "I'm Lenore."

Castiel did not oblige the greeting, a frown still creasing his forehead as he studied the woman before him.

"Sorry. He's a little disappointed you don't glitter like diamonds in the sunlight."

Lenore dropped her hand, her mouth tipping slightly into a sad smile. "Who says I don't?"

"So about Sam and Caleb?"

"Despite what they are, you should know I harbor no ill will towards either of them." Lenore glanced at Eli, her gaze taking in the ragtag group gathered with her mate before bringing her eyes back to Dean. "Caleb once saved my family from a hunter called Elkins. Sam stood up for me when he could have just as easily let Gordon finish me off. They aren't typical hunters; they're enlightened for your kind."

"Then helping them should be easy." Dean didn't miss the fact Lenore wasn't grouping him with his brother and best friend.

"We both know it isn't so simple." Lenore stared at Dean. "As you said, times are hard. In a hundred years I haven't seen such things."

"Then it makes your decision to help us all the more profound," Castiel spoke. "Times of great mayhem reveal the righteous."

Lenore turned to Castiel, her hand going back to grasp the charm bracelet. Dean noticed the gold cross pressed between her thumb and index finger. It seemed everyone was searching for redemption. "It's hard to be gracious when you have been cast in a world of darkness."

"That is when one must be gracious." Castiel stepped forward, extending his hand to the vampire. "My Father said light shall shine out of darkness. You and your family obviously understand that."

"Corinthians," Lenore took the angel's hand and grasped it between both of hers. "Chapter 4; Verse 6."

"Does this little game of Bible Jeopardy mean you'll help us?" Dean could appreciate the irony of a religious vampire as much as the next guy, but was ready to get back to business.

Lenore let go of Castiel's hand, looking to Dean. "Your brother and Caleb are being held by a vampire named Beckett."

"Does Beckett have a last name?"

"We know little about him." Eli came alongside his mate. "His nest crossed the border of Canada last year, bringing new ideas with them."

"These new ideas include unifying your nests and establishing a power base within your ranks?"

Eli looked at Lenore who nodded that he should continue. "Beckett believes the time for vampires to reclaim their place is upon us. He thinks if we don't show a display of power now, we'll be perceived as inconsequential as the humans and left in the wake."

"I hate to break it to you, but Lucifer is mass murdering his own people. He's not looking for any new comrades. And the only thing kidnapping two-thirds of The Triad is going to accomplish is to bring about a quick extinction for what's left of your kind before the show even starts."

"Smart or not, vampires are taking notice," Lenore said. "Beckett's very charismatic for a young vampire. His appeal has united several nests already, forming the largest group of our kind in centuries. We hear he has joined forces with a very powerful witch willing to utilize dark magic."

Dean and Castiel shared a look. "This witch have a name?"

"Not one that I know. I haven't heard a specific coven spoken about."

"Would you happen to know where I could find this Beckett?"

"Up north," Eli answered. "That's all we know."

"That's a start."

"Dean," Lenore grasped the hunter's sleeve. "You should know that one of the things Beckett has promised the vampires is justice against their greatest enemy."

"Van Helsing's head on a platter?" Hunters were the only known predator of the vampire. If Beckett wanted to gain support, Dean knew marching the bloodied corpses of his enemy through the streets would be a great start.

"Yes."

"There has always been war between hunter and vampire."

"But Beckett is painting The Brotherhood in a darker light. He claims Sam and Caleb murdered a nest like ours, one that was trying to live in peace with the humans."

"Sam and Caleb spared you and your family. Do you really believe they would slaughter another nest just for sport?"

Lenore let him go. "Others do not see things as I do. They are sparked by the idea of vindication. The shedding of enemy blood excites them in more ways than one. Beckett is planning a big show of it. Vampires are coming from all over."

"But you don't know the location?" Dean held Lenore's gaze, searching for any mistruth.

"We had to pledge our allegiance to Beckett's crusade to receive the specifics. As I said before, we are not interested in his plans."

"There's talk of a public execution," Eli added.

"We'll see about that." Dean nodded to Castiel. "Let's go."

Lenore stepped back, her nest opening up to allow them to leave. Dean caught her soft words as they walked away. "I'll pray for you."

Dean wasn't sure if he should be humbled that one of the damned was hoping for their salvation, or extremely worried they needed such mercy.

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Vengeance is Mine

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Just to clarify my previous note, The Brotherhood won't be ending after these five stories, at least not completely. Tidia and I have no plans for a sixth season story arc, but do plan to hopefully do some one shots. Thank you for all the kind concern. The reviews are so appreciated, and really do encourage us to keep going.

**Rc**J

Caleb woke with a gasp, the tendrils of a nightmare escaping like wisps through his fingers. "Sam!"

"Hey."

A hand rested on his shoulder and Caleb squeezed his eyes shut against the sensations assaulting him. He couldn't distinguish what misery was his and what was Sam's. He shivered. "God."

"Take a few breaths. It helps."

Caleb tried to lift his head, get a look at Sam, but his body ignored his commands. He took the kid's advice and inhaled. It didn't help. "Liar," he exhaled.

"Stay still and give it a minute."

Caleb couldn't find the energy to disobey. "Who turned the air conditioning on high?"

Sam's face appeared above him. He was pale, dark circles beneath his eyes. "They took our jackets when they left us here." He shivered. "I couldn't find anything to use for a blanket."

Caleb lifted his hand, frustrated when the effort barely had his fingers twitching. The vampires had apparently been reading prisoner of war strategies. If they had completed John Winchester's school of training they would have taken their shirts and shoes. "You're bleeding."

Sam dismissed the blood stains on his t-shirt. "I'm okay. Better than you."

"Impossible."

"Liam took your insults to heart." Sam glanced down at Caleb's chest. "That or the first course is his favorite. He slowed down some before he got to dessert."

"Don't blame me. You heard him. He doesn't get the chance to feast on demon very often. I must taste like prime rib." The nightmare about vampires attacking him came back with unwelcome clarity. Too bad it wasn't a dream. He and Sam had been a meal for the blood suckers. Sam was pressing something against Caleb's shoulder.

"Don't flatter yourself." Sam shifted his touch, lifting the bandage to check the wound. "Chopped steak at best."

Caleb blinked, making sure he wasn't still dreaming. "Did Sam Winchester just make a joke about the act which should not be talked about under any circumstances, ever? Are you delusional from the blood loss, Runt?"

"Dean's morbid sense of humor usually seems to help in these situations. Anything to make you feel better." Sam readjusted the pressure, his serious expression reminding Caleb of John. Sam had his father's no nonsense failsafe when working a job.

Caleb swallowed hard to force the lump from his throat. Grief's insidiousness and bad timing never failed to surprise him. His mentor often sprung to mind at times of great failure. "If I'd only known getting drained by a vampire would open up the lines of communication between us, I'd have jumped a train to Transylvania sooner."

"We're no longer on a train." Sam sat back on his heels, managing a seamless redirect in the conversation. "When I came to the cuffs and chains were gone and we were here. From what I can tell, it's some kind of root cellar. You're not going to like it."

Caleb lifted his head, scanning their surroundings. Not liking it was an understatement. To begin with it was a small square room with no windows. A set of stairs put together with concrete blocks in the far corner. A bare bulb hung from electrical wire, the low wattage cast an eerie glow. Caleb's first thoughts were of a closet with better ventilation. That was enough to have bad memories mixing with his claustrophobia. There was a short rack of wine bottles fastened to one of the plank walls, and several large wooden barrels resting in the center of the floor. He focused on those instead of the close proximity and tight space. "Since when did vampires become such wine connoisseurs?"

"I don't think those barrels contain California's finest." Sam brought his hand to the red spot on his shirt.

Caleb swallowed, his mouth too dry to garner any moisture. The strong coppery scent permeating the room registered with him now. "What happened to not drinking dead man's blood?"

"It was probably taken when the supplier was still alive. I have a theory that as long as the victim's heart is still beating, the vampires can safely drink their blood."

"That's a warm and fuzzy thought."

Sam removed the bandage, looking satisfied that the bleeding had stopped. "I guess it's always good to have some on hand in case you're called to entertain."

Caleb made it to his elbows with a grunt. "Vampires entertain?"

Sam reached out and helped him to sitting. Caleb was thankful for the wall behind him as he rested against it. They were both panting from the effort.

"Maybe all the Hollywood exposure has made them more social." Sam rested beside him. Caleb felt the younger man's shivering when their shoulders touched.

"New Moon parties? True Blood bashes?" Caleb smirked thinking about Castiel's fetish for all things vampire. "Another reason besides the Lakers to hate California."

"I won't be moving there anytime soon."

Caleb leaned his head against the wall, and turned so he could see Sam. "We need to get out of here before we're invited to the festivities. We could end up donating to one of the barrels, or worse end up al fresco."

Sam pulled his knees to his chest, hugging his arms around them for warmth. "Escaping would require us standing up. Trust me when I say that's not as easy as it sounds."

"Have you looked around?"

"A little." Sam shot him a sideway glance. "We're pretty far underground, but I made it to the top of the stairs. The hatch is solid wood and barred from the outside. This place is like a tomb."

"It could be our grave." Caleb licked his lips, knowing dehydration was a real possibility, as well as shock depending on how many liters Liam had taken from them. If he was guessing correctly, they had gone without liquids for over twenty four hours. "We need water."

"I don't think Liam and his buddies care much about catering to us."

"They obviously don't want us to die too quickly." Although it seemed they hoped to make them as miserable as possible.

"Dean will get here in time."

"Sure he will." Caleb closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on his best friend. He followed the psychic thread in his mind that would have usually taken him straight to Dean. Instead of connecting with the bright blue energy he recognized as The Guardian, he felt a darkness tug at him. He was free falling. Sam's voice called to him from far away, his touch grounding him.

"Caleb!"

"I'm alright." He growled, bringing his hand to his head. His ears were ringing, shooting stars bursting behind his tightly shut eyelids. "Fuck."

"That was stupid." Sam let go of his wrist. "There's no way you can use your abilities like this."

"I was thinking we needed a rescue. Do you have a better plan?" Caleb opened his eyes, gritting his teeth as three Sams swam before him like a Van Gogh painting.

"Rendering yourself unconscious isn't the answer." Sam levelled another John Winchester look in his direction, the perfect amount of disappointment and exasperation. "You'll just leave me alone to try and figure things out on my own."

"You are The Scholar." Caleb let his head bang against the wall, frustrated that his abilities were betraying him. "Thinking and planning is part of the job description."

"But you're the muscle."

"I don't see me pulling a Popeye any time soon." Caleb hated feeling helpless. The idea that Liam and his undead goons could obviously come in and do whatever they wanted to Sam sent a surge of fury through him.

Sam smirked. "Where's a can of spinach when we need it?"

"You really are channeling Deuce today, smart ass." Caleb was glad Dean wasn't with them, and not just because it increased their chance of rescue. One Winchester in peril in at a time was all he could handle.

"I'm trying."

Caleb shifted higher on the wall, glancing at the younger hunter. Sam's short, clipped answers were unsettling. Diatribe was usually Sam's strong point. "You know, you may be onto something with the whole spinach thing."

"Like?" Sam drew out the syllable, his brow furrowing.

"I might not be able to Hulk-out, but you could." Caleb lifted his bandaged arm. "It's not like Liam hasn't got a good flow going. What's another pint if it will get us the hell out of here?"

"What? No way." Sam's face twisted in anger at the suggestion. "That's nowhere close to funny, even for your morbid sense of humor."

"It wasn't a joke, man." Caleb knew the idea was a sore subject for Sam, but wasn't above using any means to save their lives at this point.

Sam angled his body towards him, his jaw clenching. "How could you even suggest that? You know what it's been like for me-how I've struggled. The promise I made to Dean-to myself."

"Certain death has a way of bringing out the worst in me." Caleb shrugged his uninjured shoulder. "Desperation is an ugly thing. Dean understands survival comes before anything."

"Of course he does." Sam hugged his arms over his chest, shivering. "He learned that from Dad."

"I'm just saying it could be an option if Deuce doesn't get here and things look worse for us." Caleb hated the look of hurt that flashed in Sam's dark eyes, but he wasn't about to let a bunch of vampires take them out, or worse,turn them. "We could at least put it on the good old round table as a possibility."

"It's permanently off the table." Sam glared at him, hurt igniting to cool anger. "I'm not drinking any demon blood, especially yours."

Caleb sighed. He was more than familiar with the 'end of discussion' look in Sam's dark eyes. John Winchester would never be completely gone as long as his youngest son drew breath. "Sammy…"

"Don't 'Sammy' me." Sam set his jaw. He was pissed; Caleb knew he would have to perform some sort of penance before he was forgiven. "If you're lucky I won't tell Dean you suggested it."

"You're threatening to tell The Guardian on me?" Caleb groaned. He hadn't expected that. "We've been the Triad how long and you've already morphed into Mac."

"Better than you emulating Dad." Sam shook his head. "The fact that idea even crossed your mind shows how much he warped you. You can be just like him sometimes."

"Me?" Caleb wanted to cry pot and kettle. "I'm warped?"

"Yes."

"We'll see if your high and mighty convictions are so gratifying when good old Liam is helping himself to another serving of prime rib."

"Chopped steak," Sam clarified.

"Whatever." Caleb gestured to the block staircase. They both heard the bar being removed from above, a latch clicking. "They're coming, probably for another course."

Sam struggled to his feet, reaching a hand down to help Caleb up. "You're not going to guilt me into it."

Caleb rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of damaging your newly calibrated moral compass." He took a deep breath once he was on his feet, willing the dizziness to fade. He wasn't so stubborn to shake off Sam's steadying hand, but he edged out in front of the younger hunter determined to be, if nothing else, a shield.

Sam gripped his elbow tighter, not happy with the move. "You're an ass."

"That may be true." Caleb took another step, putting himself more squarely between the stairs and Sam. "But I'm still The Knight and that means I'm the hunter in charge."

"That's not how it works and you know it."

"Check the handbook. It's all there." Caleb might not be able to stop Liam, but he would at least make it difficult. "They'll have to go through me first."

Caleb's brave attempt held little ground against Liam and his entourage. He and Sam were manhandled up the stairs, dragged through a more typical wine cellar, and then into a house that looked nothing like Dracula's castle. Caleb likened it more to his grandfather's mansion in Rhode Island.

The entranceway boasted a mosaic floor reminiscent of the churches he'd studied in Italy, a marble stairway, a cathedral ceiling complete with an ornate Murano glass chandelier. The architecture and art made it hard for Caleb to focus on scanning the place for possible exits as they were pushed along. Dizziness from the blood loss didn't make assessing the layout any easier.

They were taken to a library in the east wing where Caleb ignored the wall tapestries and the fresco of The Annunciation on the dome ceiling. He stared straight ahead at the ivory fireplace, angels carved in relief at each side. The room was stunning. Caleb had eyes only for the man standing in front of the roaring fire.

He looked Sam's age, but in vampire years that meant little. His hair and eyes were dark, and he was dressed better than Josh, which considering their Advisor's panache for designers such as Canali and Armani was saying a lot.

"Who the hell are you?" Caleb shrugged out of Liam's grip, relieved when he held his own weight and his voice didn't betray how shitty he felt.

"Beckett asks the questions, hunter." Liam shoved Caleb.

Caleb managed to stay on his feet. He sent a seething glare over his shoulder to the red-haired vampire, who was wearing his leather coat, along with the scabbard for The Talon. Caleb was determined to cut his head off with a dull, plastic knife.

"It's alright, Liam. The prisoners have a right to know who I am."

"And why we are being held here," Sam said.

Caleb turned his gaze to Sam, who had stepped forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. The kid hadn't faired their mad dash any better than Caleb. Beads of sweat dotted his face. He looked ready to puke on their host's expensive Persian rug. Caleb hoped Dean and a rescue party were on their way.

"Please have a seat and I'll explain." The man gestured to two wingback leather chairs.

Caleb and Sam didn't move.

"Suit yourself." The man moved to a desk off to the right, picking up a folder from a stack. "I'm Beckett Moreau. I had you brought here to face charges."

"Charges?" Caleb clenched his fists. "What kind of charges?"

"Murder charges." Beckett crossed the room, offering the file to Sam as if they were willingly partaking in a business meeting. "I believe you were a student of the law, Mr. Winchester. It's all in there."

"These look like sworn affidavits." Sam studied the documents, glancing up at Caleb. "Warrants for our arrests."

"That's exactly what they are," Beckett folded his hands in front of him. "The two of you are being charged in the deaths of nine vampires in Pittsburgh. Everything's in order, I assure you."

"Vampires aren't leeches enough?" Caleb laughed. "They need litigators now?"

"I'm not an attorney, Mr. Reaves, although I have several in my service." Beckett removed a leather holder from his jacket, from which he took a cigar. "I'm a business man, like my grandfather before me. He started out driving spikes for the Canadian railroad, only later to own the very company who paid him a pittance. Like my ancestors, I see opportunity where others view chaos."

"What does bringing us up on charges have to do with your entrepreneurial effort?" Sam asked.

"I've followed my family's motto. The best way to please customers, to ensure their patronage, is to simply give them what they want." Beckett lit his cigar. Caleb recognized the smell of the Cuban quality his grandfather favored. "My colleagues want justice for their kind, a stake in this new land of opportunity. With the apocalypse at hand it's like the Wild West all over again. I'm going to make sure they get their claim, and I their allegiance."

"So, this isn't just about revenge?" Caleb was beginning to understand. "You want power?"

"I want something all my money hasn't been able to give me since my unfortunate run in with the man who made me ten years ago. I want respectability, and yes, power wouldn't hurt."

"So you're making a mockery of the justice system?" Sam demanded. He thrust the file towards Beckett. "Why go to all this trouble?"

"We're trying to be civilized about this." Beckett reclaimed the folder. "I prefer to keep things as 'human' as possible."

"You call feeding off of us civilized?" Caleb lifted the flap of his shredded shirt, revealing the reddened wound on his chest. "Nothing human about this."

"It's for your own good, I assure you." Beckett waved his cigar from Sam to Caleb. "In your weakened states you're not a threat. My associates understand that, and don't feel a need to react. This way you can't unwittingly do harm to yourselves whilst trying to escape."

"How fucking thoughtful of you," Caleb said.

"The fact we can't alert any of The Brotherhood also has to have its appeal," Sam said.

"The Brotherhood is not a concern of mine."

Caleb snorted. "It will be when they break down the doors to your little villa and hang your burning corpse from the pretty chandelier in the foyer."

Beckett smiled at Caleb "I have a very talented associate in this venture. He's made sure we will be quite safe until the proceedings are over."

"Proceedings?" Sam glanced at the file again. "You actually plan to have a trial?"

"No. More of a formal sentencing, then a public execution. Vampires will speak of it for centuries. Heads of nests from all over are planning to be attendance. We'll also record it for posterity. You'll be quite legendary, as will I."

"You think some fake documents give you the right to kidnap us and bring us here for your own personal snuff film?" Caleb wasn't sure he was still dreaming. Maybe waking up with Sam in the cellar was still part of his original nightmare. "Are you insane?"

"You believe a simple silver ring gives you the right to sheriff the land? Dole out vigilante justice when you deem fit?" Beckett inclined his head to Caleb's right hand. "Correct, Dark Knight? At least I'm providing papers and giving due notice."

Caleb made a fist, the feel of his hunter's band fueling his ire. "The Brotherhood protects the innocent. What I do, I do in their name. Your constituents are far from that, and deserve no such consideration."

"What you're proposing is a power play-a propaganda scheme," Sam said. "It has nothing to do with justice."

"What? The Brotherhood is the only organization that can be prickly about who or what it deems the enemy. I've heard you work with demons. You've been known to spare our kind if it suits your mood."

"You're talking about Lenore?"

Caleb glanced at Sam. He had helped the vampire and her nest once, more to spite Daniel Elkins than in a spirit of generosity. John had him doing maneuvers for weeks after the nest escaped thanks to Caleb's scoop. Dean and Sam had run into the same nest a few years back, Sam's ethics getting the best of him. Caleb took refuge in the fact Lenore and her kind fed off animals, and swore not to curse any other humans with their sickness.

"Lenore doesn't harm humans," Sam said. "She's reformed."

"The nest you wiped out last year was like Lenore's family." Beckett shifted his dark gaze to Sam. "They were harming no one, lest it be the bovine population. You Americans enjoy your share of burgers. Eh?"

"Pittsburgh isn't exactly booming with farmland," Sam said. "The only mutilations in that area were human."

"The nest resided in Washington County, Pennsylvania." Beckett patted the file. "I believe there are plenty of farms in that area."

"You're wrong." Caleb shook his head at the blatant misinformation. "Those so-called peace loving vampires we stopped were working their game out of a seedy bar in the slimiest gang infested streets of The Steel City. They lived in a filthy abandoned warehouse not two blocks away from it and corpses littered the premises, not to mention they were infecting people left and right."

"That's not what my witness says."

"There were no witnesses."

"Caleb…" Sam started.

Caleb threw his hands in the air. "You think I care if this bastard knows I ganked a bunch of his buddies? I'm a hunter. We've been killing vampires for thousands of years, almost to the point of extinction. I'm as about as guilty of a crime as your average rodent exterminator."

Caleb sensed Liam moving forward, but one look from Beckett stopped his henchmen. "Now is not the time for final arguments. You'll have your say before the hanging."

"Hanging?" Caleb's mind was reeling. "You think you're going to hang us."

"It was a toss up between that and burning you at the stake. My associate balked at that one. It's a touchy subject concerning his ancestry."

"Who's this associate?" Sam asked.

"Who the hell cares," Caleb snarled. As far as he was concerned that was the least important part of what this lunatic was raving about. "When The Guardian finds out what you're planning he's going to make what Sam and I did to that nest in _Pittsburgh_look like fucking Woodstock."

Beckett didn't seem concerned in the least, which proved to Caleb he was in fact, full on buckets of crazy. "That would require him finding you, and as I've said, I don't believe that's going to happen before tomorrow evening."

"Why take that risk?" Sam asked. "You have to know what will happen to you."

"If merely killing you had been my intention, you'd be dead." Beckett made his way back to the desk, putting down his cigar, dropping the file on top of the stack. He took a seat on the edge. "Any run of the mill vampire could get lucky and take out a hunter of high caliber, but only a leader could do the unthinkable and bring The Triad to its knees. I need to prove to those who doubt me that I have their best interests at heart. That I can deliver on what I promise."

"You do realize you're not only stirring up The Brotherhood, you're giving Lucifer the finger." Caleb let his gaze trail Beckett.

"You have to know his plans for me," Sam said.

"It's one of the reasons I chose to act now. The apocalypse is affording us momentum for a new order. We are on a precipice. Lucifer needs to see we are more than the humans he holds in such low regards. We may even be a formidable ally."

"Lucifer is going to be pissed you're sucking on his future meat suit like a Slurpee from the Gulp and Go." Caleb thrust a finger in Beckett's direction. "And as for The Brotherhood, you obviously haven't figured The Guardian into the equation."

"My brother will make sure _you're_ the first vampire he kills," Sam agreed.

"Then he'll mount your head on a fucking spear and carry it into the trenches where he and The Brotherhood will finally finish off what's left of your kind."

Beckett wasn't rattled by their confidence. "The hard thing about being The Guardian is that he no longer has the extravagance of putting his needs or wants before that of the obligation to those he serves. He is the ultimate figurehead. There are so many people to answer to, not only his Triad, but also his closest constituents and supporters, not to mention innocent charges."

"If you go through with this, nothing and I mean nothing will stop Dean from destroying you." Caleb had complete faith in his declaration.

Beckett rubbed his neatly trimmed goatee, his dark eyes flashing. "Vampires have prospered in the last decade. There are numerous nests in Texas, for instance. We like the wide open spaces. Kansas. Boston. Washington D.C. New York City is a popular locale. It's easy to get lost in Manhattan. Even a powerful Guardian can't be everywhere at once."

Caleb understood the loosely veiled threat to their closest friends, family. He started around the chair, but Sam grasped his arm. "There's one major point you're overlooking. We're not guilty of what you're saying. If you truly wanted to come off as a righteous and just hero, you'd need to prove we're the bad guys. Falsified documents are not going to do that."

"I might not have gone to Stanford, but I understand how invaluable a witness's testimony can be."

"You don't have any witnesses." Caleb snapped. "There was no one left!"

"I was there." Caleb looked up as a woman entered from the far side of the room. Her dark hair fell past her shoulders. She was wearing a leather jacket and tight, worn jeans, looking as if she just dismounted the back of some guy's Harley.

Sam took a step forward. "Kate?"

The woman, Kate smiled. "Ain't karma a bitch, Winchester? It's been a while."

"It's been longer than you're telling," Sam said. "You weren't in Pittsburgh. I haven't seen you since Colorado."

"You can't be a hundred percent sure of that." Kate moved close to Sam, touching a finger to his nose. "We vampires have an amazing sense of smell. For all you know I caught the stench of hunter and hid, watching it all."

"While we slaughtered your family?" Caleb folded his arms over his chest. "That sounds plausible. You vampires do have an amazing streak of disloyalty and cowardice."

Beckett didn't intercede on Caleb's behalf this time. Liam's punch sent The Knight to his knees with a strangled cough. It felt like the time Jim's horse kicked the shit out of him when he and Dean were goofing off in the barn, and he startled Fat Chance while the animal was eating. Back then, the cracked ribs gave Caleb a new respect and a healthy dose of fear for horses. Liam's lesson just pissed him off. "Son of a…"

"Whether you were there or not, you are nothing like Lenore's kind." Sam steered the conversation away from Caleb, but The Knight felt the younger psychic brush through his mind, checking to see if he was alright. "What is Beckett giving you for your perjured testimony?"

"Beckett is returning what was taken from me," Kate answered.

"He's going to revive Luther?" Sam said. "Not possible."

"I'm talking about The Colt." Kate's eyes flashed black with an angry hiss. "My reward will be having my stolen property returned-with an added bonus of course."

"Bonus?" Sam looked from Beckett to Kate. "What kind of bonus?"

"The best kind." Kate gripped Sam's chin. "I'm going to use the gun your father stole, the weapon he used to kill Luther, to put a bullet in your brother's head."

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

**Vengeance is Mine**

**Chapter 4**

**Beta: Tidia**

**A/N: Heads up, people. Important things going down. **

**R**CJ

"Do you know how many hits there are on Beckett?" Dean was sitting in Mac's library, Sam's laptop opened in front of him. He and Bobby had been searching their first line of resources since he and Castiel had returned to the condo.

"Eleven million, six hundred thousand." Bobby looked over the top of Mac's desk computer with a smirk. "Give or take a few."

"Good guess." Dean rubbed his eyes. He had been up all night; the lack of sleep was pulling at him. They didn't know if Beckett was a first or last name, or an alias. "At this rate we might narrow it down by next week."

"We could put Riley on it."

"Mac did that. Carolyn and Alison are running The Brotherhood route, too." Dean was going through the motions to keep his mind off the fact he was completely useless to Caleb and Sam at the moment.

A first name wasn't enough for angel radar, but Castiel had agreed to go farther north to _feel _out the situation. Without a direct line on who they were looking for, it was all a wild goose chase. Dean touched his hunter's band, the one connection he had to his missing brother and best friend. The fact he somehow knew they were alive was the only thing keeping him from coming unhinged.

"Ethan have any luck with the traffic cameras?" Bobby asked.

"The Athens Police Department put him in touch with the company they contract out to." Bobby had suggested they check the area towns near his place, the possible routes Caleb would have traveled. It was as much of a needle in the haystack as dropping a line in the World Wide Web. "He doesn't expect it to go anywhere considering we don't know the make or model of the vehicles the bad guys might have used. The company gave him access to the footage from the night Caleb left your place, but so far he hasn't even found any trace of anything unusual."

"I know it was a long shot, but those cameras have gotten me for running enough red lights." Bobby sighed. "I was hoping they would finally pay off for me in a good way."

"It was a good idea, just like dusting Caleb's car for prints." That had turned up zilch, not counting Caleb's smashed cell phone, which took away yet another option of tracking them down.

Bobby rolled away from Mac's desk, moving towards Dean. "When's the last time you slept, Kid? Or ate something besides coffee that could stand on its own? You look like shit."

Dean straightened in his chair, frowning at the mechanic. "You're turning into a nursemaid in your old age."

"I'm just being practical. You're not going to be much use to us or Caleb and Sam if you keel over."

"At this point I'm not sure I'm much of an advantage either way."

"We're going to get them back, Kid. Junior and Sam will be just fine."

"Just like Jo and Ellen are fine."

Bobby couldn't mask the grimace of hurt, the swirl of emotion in his steady gaze. "If I learned anything in war, it's that you can't move forward if you're carrying the weight of the dead on your shoulders. They'll drag you down if you let them. You'll falter- then their death means nothing."

"What happened to leaving no man behind?" It was what haunted Dean in his dreams. He, Caleb and Sam had left Jo and Ellen to face the enemy alone. Many nights he awoke with the sound of the explosion ringing in his ears, the taste of Jo on his lips. He couldn't help to wonder how his father and Jim would have handled the situation differently. Dean questioned whether he would have made the same choice and walked away if it were his brother or Caleb injured by the hell hounds.

"You didn't leave them, Dean. They chose to say." Bobby scratched his beard. "I've seen soldiers throw themselves on a live grenade to save their buddies. Hell, I've been one of the saved. Only way to honor a sacrifice like that is to take up their sword and carry on. You keep fighting, harder than before."

"Easier said than done when enemies keep coming at you from all directions." It seemed they took two steps forward, three steps back.

"I hate to break this to you, Kid, but failure is the best teacher of vigilance."

Dean snorted, knowing his pity party was grinding to a halt. It was hard to face Bobby and feel sorry for yourself. "Wait til I tell Damien you're a waxing philosophic. What next? You going to take up the podium? I'm not sure I'm ready to see you in one of Jim's old collars."

"I don't think you have to worry about that anytime soon, smartass." Bobby turned his wheelchair towards the door. "Although, I might write an inspirational book when all this is over, get your buddy Chuck to hook me up. Right now, I'm more concerned about getting something to eat."

Dean grinned, knowing Bobby was more worried about _him_ eating. Everyone needed to feel useful. "I guess some of Esme's leftover pot roast wouldn't kill me."

Bobby nodded. "There's some fancy mousse calling my name. All this time I thought Mackland was lusting over Esme's great legs, and I find out it was her cooking that did him in."

"Please tell me I didn't just hear you use my mother's name and the words lust and legs in the same sentence." Joshua entered the room carrying a large book that resembled an ancient dictionary and his journal. He gave Bobby a scathing look. "Have you no shame? She's a married woman you know, married to one of your best friends no less."

"That doesn't mean I can't appreciate her finer assets, Slick. Hell, a woman officially off the market is more desirable. You should ask your brother what he thinks about Carolyn sometime."

"Caleb talks about Carolyn?" Joshua's icy gaze turned on Dean. "I expect him to manage a modicum of respect in regards to my fiancé."

"What do you want me to do? Damien talks about anything with a heartbeat and breasts." Dean was slightly amused Joshua didn't protest Bobby's use of the sibling status. "Speaking of a great rack, did the lovely Leah whisper anything useful in your ear, or just the typical sweet nothings?"

Leah was the newly crowned queen bee of Joshua's coven. The Brotherhood wasn't the only group transitioning power. To hear Joshua tell it, Leah was a very powerful witch from a formidable family. Dean had met her at The Triad ceremony after party and hadn't missed the way Leah hung on their Advisor's every word. His gut told him the woman was used to getting what she wanted, knew how to work an angle, any angle, especially the curvy ones.

"Leah confirmed what Mackland had heard. In fact, she says the covens are all very quietly pointing fingers, despite the fact no specific witch has been named as the culprit behind this Beckett's rise to power. At the latest gathering of sovereign officials, it was quite the issue. A great squabble ensued, causing one of the covens more known for its leniency for dark magic to withdraw from the meeting. She promised to check with more of her sources, perhaps contact the gentleman overseer of the coven in question. She's going to get back with us."

"That sounds like a lot of work on her part." Dean picked up the paper weight of The Eiffel Tower from the desk, turning it over in his hands. "You know I'd never ask you to compromise your virtue, man."

"I assure you there will be no need for me to take one for the team where Leah is concerned." Joshua placed the tome in front of Dean. "She and I have a completely professional relationship based on a mutual respect for the craft. She's amazingly gifted in alchemy. I've learned a great deal from her." He tapped the page. "Like this spell, which is very effective in blocking psychic abilities such as Mackland's. If the vampire truly is working with a witch, this could be what they are using to prevent anyone with gifts from finding where they are."

"As long as there are no chemistry lessons going on." Dean stared at the inscription. He felt responsible for Joshua being in the coven. Knowing his Advisor had made the best of a bad situation, carving a niche for himself with his fellow witches, didn't alleviate the weight of the guilt. He didn't want to be the blame for any more upset, especially if Joshua ended up collateral damage.

"Unlike Caleb, I can control my libido."

Bobby snorted. "Famous last words, Sport."

"Are you interested in hearing what else Leah said or would you rather continue demeaning my character with your lack of faith in my integrity as a gentleman?"

"Please, by all means, carry on. I'll get us a snack for what I'm sure promises to be an awe inspiring lecture. Maybe Esme would like to help me?" Bobby rolled past Joshua, giving The Advisor a wink. "Don't worry; I'm in complete control of my libido as well."

Joshua folded his arms over his chest. "I honestly believe his incapacitation has left him more contrary."

"I think you just bring out the best in people." Dean reclined in his seat, propping his hands behind his head. "Let's hear the rest of it."

"Leah said a witch of the caliber we believe is working with Beckett will make it even harder to find him. Not only are there cloaking spells against psychics, there are also guards against more traditional forms of tracking, not to mention any crafting on my part would be thwarted. "

Dean brought his arms down, rubbing his silver ring. "Lenore says a lot of vampires are buying into Beckett's spiel. We have no idea of knowing the number we're going up against."

"The fact they are uniting against a common enemy could prove quite difficult. One of the reasons past hunters like Daniel Elkins had such success in keeping their population low and maintainable is because they either work alone or in small clusters. They also tend to fight amongst themselves."

"They've been their own worst enemy."

"So to speak."

"We have to find them, Josh." Dean left out the part where they had to find them alive, relatively unharmed, and mostly human. "There has to be a way around all of this."

"I've been thinking about that. I know that angels and demons can no longer find you, Sam and Caleb, and Mackland is impotent at the moment. "

Dean raised a brow. "I'm not sure Mackland would appreciate your turn of phrase."

Joshua sighed. "Regular spell work is out, but there is another resource that has proven to have different boundaries, one no witch would think to counter. We use The Triad."

"Why didn't I think of that?" Dean shoved away from the desk. If only it were that simple. "Oh yeah, there is that little problem with the whole 'we have no idea how the hell to use Triad magic' thing."

"I know someone who does."

"Ben Mosley." Dean ran a hand through his hair. "Only we've had no luck in finding him either. As far as we know old man Mosley is dead, taking all his knowledge and the journals of all the past Advisors with him."

"I wasn't referring to Mosley."

"Then who?"

"Malachi Harris."

"The demon Damien released?" Dean's mind reeled at the unexpected suggestion. Joshua was nothing if not practical and at times overly cautious.

"He was an Advisor before he became a demon."

"Are you crazy? The guy murdered his Guardian and Knight back in his human days. He's spent roughly the equivalent of twelve thousand years in the Pit. I can only imagine what kind of monster he is now."

"A monster who knows how to use Triad magic. His was one of the most powerful Triad's in Brotherhood history. We can't dismiss the similarities in Daniel Wilmington's time and ours."

"I agree neither of our Triads had the best of luck when it came to the dark side." Azazel reared his ugly yellow-eyed mug during Wilmington's time, and Dean had finished him off for good. "We all have the scars to prove it."

"I'm not suggesting we bring Harris on the team, or into our bed. Only that we take from him what we need." Joshua lifted his journal. "I used a scrying spell last year when you and Sam were missing. Without thinking much about it I placed The Triad symbol in the circle, as a representation of you and Sam. Something incredible happened."

"Yeah. Malachi Harris showed up."

"Exactly."

"Get to the point, Josh."

"We perform the same scrying ritual from last year, using the symbol, as if we believe the spell will lead us to Sam and Caleb."

"We play dumb about the whole using Triad magic without proper protection in place?"

Joshua nodded. "Malachi Harris will not be able to resist the draw of power, especially now that you are The Guardian."

"Why not just have Castiel track him down like he did Crowley?"

"Because Malachi has a special cloaking ability. He bragged about it to Caleb. Caleb used it when he and Sam were storming the facility where Rose was holding you. I don't think Castiel will be able to find him, at least not in the timely manner which we need."

"Where is all this coming from?" Dean moved from behind the desk, hitching his hip on the corner so he was facing his Advisor. "Don't get me wrong. I'm up for anything that will help Sammy and Damien, but you're usually the first to put your foot down when we suggest anything unorthodox. Wrangling a traitorous demon isn't exactly your style."

"The end of the world is at hand, our friends have been murdered, and you, Sam and Caleb are The Triad now. I take the vows I made that day at the farm very seriously. I'm not going to fail in this."

"We're all feeling pressure to rise to what's expected of us. Believe me, no one understands that more than I do, but…"

"No, you don't understand." Joshua interrupted him. He started a small tight pacing, alternating his glances between Dean and the floor. "I grew up in The Brotherhood, but never once did I truly feel apart of it. I was always an outsider."

Dean rubbed his ring. He was always an outcast in normal land, but he never once doubted that he belonged in The Brotherhood.

"Things began to shift for me after Wyoming, after Gideon's death. Then I almost I died and you went to Hell."

Dean rubbed his chin. "Definitely a buzz kill."

Joshua stopped in front of him. "After your ascension, I started to believe in Jim Murphy's vision. I began to embrace the role I might play in it. Not the part my father envisioned, but something more, maybe better than I deserved. Even Ruby's blight didn't douse the hope it stirred in me. But, I did not expect to feel what I did after the ceremony- that night at the farm."

Dean knew the feeling Joshua was talking about. It was an awakening. Jim might have called it a holy encounter, but Dean wasn't sure what that meant anymore. He only understood how it affected him, changed him. It was the first time he believed the shattered pieces Hell had left could ever be knitted together to make him whole again. Everything felt right in that moment, even with all the horrors raging around them. But now Sam and Caleb were missing, in danger, and he wasn't sure how being The Guardian would or could mean anything without them.

"I can't return to simply going through the motions," Joshua was saying. "I must be the better man Jim Murphy saw in me. The man I caught a glimpse of that night at the ceremony."

"You sure your older sibling chromosome just didn't kick into overdrive?" Dean folded his arms over his chest. It was beyond odd to be having a touchy feely conversation with Joshua. He felt off kilter and dizzy from the implications. Was this a new facet to their roles? Dean needed balance, falling back to old hat. "It can make you do some crazy shit. After all, some bastards did just walk in and kidnap our little brothers right out from under our noses."

"This isn't a joke." Joshua's frown deepened. "If we lose The Triad, I think everything will be lost, including any hope for a future we would want to take part in."

Dean's attempt at leveling the playing field failed miserably, all mirth stolen by the reminder of what was at stake. "I've seen the future when we lose, Josh. Trust me; you don't want any part of it."

"Then we will do what we have to." Joshua sighed. "Even have incredibly uncomfortable 'chick flick moments' to reach an understanding."

Dean snorted at the term. "I think this is the most serious conversation we've had since I was twelve and you tried to make me feel better after I was almost murdered by a psychopath by pointing out our fathers' many similarities."

Joshua reached up and pulled at the collar of his shirt. "I don't always have the most charm when dealing with those closest to me, or the knack for putting a spin on the things that really count."

"I don't know about that." Dean raised a brow. "You just did a fairly decent job of selling me on recruiting a murderous demon for Operation Save Our Little Brothers."

Joshua's mouth twitched. "So you agree with my plan?"

"_Our _plan." Dean stood up. "It's going to take both of us to convince Mackland and Bobby this is a good idea."

"I will leave the talking to you then. You are The Guardian after all."

"Right, and if things go down the shitter I can always claim I received terrible advice."

"I have no doubt you would." Joshua grabbed the spell book and his journal. "I might have slightly different feelings towards this post, but I have no naïve illusions about the men I'm working with."

"Now who's degrading one's integrity as a gentleman?"

"You are many things, but a gentleman is not one of them."

"True." Dean smirked. "Who do you think Damien shares his lewd thoughts about Carolyn with?"

RcJ*SnsnsnsN*RcJ

"You sure this is going to work?" Dean had to admit that the showmanship of spell work was impressive. Joshua made the task look rudimentary, but Dean couldn't quite keep up with what ingredients The Advisor tossed into the flames he'd contained in a small metal cauldron, or the ancient Gaelic language he was speaking. Dean's ring vibrated and he clenched his fist, warding off the pang of anxiety the connection elicited. It was odd enough to be performing a ritual in Central Park, despite the late hour and desolated area, but it felt more wrong because his brother and Caleb were absent.

"To what are you speaking? The scrying or attracting Malachi Harris?"

"I guess the scrying is too much to hope for?"

"If these were normal circumstance and we weren't being thwarted by another crafter, then I believe it would work." Dean watched Joshua reach into his black leather bag. He pulled out a tanned animal hide spreading it on the ground before them. "Adam's map is quite ingenious."

Dean leaned closer studying the piece of leather. It didn't look like any map he had seen. "Do I want to know what kind of animal that came from?"

"I didn't ask." Joshua glanced up at him. "It was a gift."

"Did he make you a buffalo robe and coon skin cap to go with it? Because I would really like to see that."

Joshua ignored him. "I imagine it might be coyote. They are sacred to many tribes."

"Tricksters."

"Sometimes."

Dean fingered the pelt. "So it's enchanted like the map from Harry Potter?"

Joshua sighed. "It's been treated with a unique blend of natural agents."

"Right. Adam is like Mr. Science."

"He is an accomplished alchemist."

"So how does it work? There's no writing on it." Dean didn't really care to know the ins and outs of what Joshua could do, but it kept his mind off the reality of what they were preparing for."

"That's where the crafting comes in."

"So it's like invisible ink?"

"If you must draw common parallels, then yes. When we place the items we're using to represent Sam and Caleb within the Triad symbol, place the map over it and I say the incantation, then we shall see what we need to see."

"If we weren't being blocked?"

"Correct."

"But you think Malachi Harris will know how to bypass the other crafter."

"I believe Triad Magic is very ancient, very rare. I know of no crafter who could stand against it." Joshua pulled another item from his bag, which he handed to Dean. "I believe you should carve The Triad symbol."

"What happened to the magic wand you had when I was a kid?" Dean accepted the ceremonial blade, studying the three interlocking circles burned into the wooden handle. He flipped it over, the other side held another symbol Dean recognized. It was the brand Joshua bore from his coven.

"A wand isn't necessary." Joshua rubbed a hand over a patch of earth, clearing it of the wet dead leaves and twigs that had helped them conceal the devil's trap on the outer perimeter of their salt barrier, turning the whole area into one huge demon cage. "Besides, that's the knife you used in The Triad ceremony. Missouri wanted me to keep it. It belonged to the elusive Ben Mosley."

"She sure has been tightlipped about her old man."

"Fathers have a way of disappointing their children. Sometimes it's easier to dismiss them."

Dean knew Joshua was speaking from experience. It was hard to accept your parents were fallible humans. "She ever talk to you about her dad?"

"Not anything specific. She said he was a man who followed his heart, even when it led to the most difficult path."

Dean traced his finger over the symbol Joshua agreed to take to save Caleb's life. "Ben Mosley belonged to your coven?"

"Until he officially took the position of Advisor. The covens didn't always see The Brotherhood as an ally." Joshua glanced up. "I didn't know that until a recent conversation with my grandmother. She and Ben were friends. In fact, Ben introduced her to my grandfather."

"You're just sharing that now?"

"My grandmother's past didn't seem relevant. She hasn't heard from Ben Mosley since my grandfather passed. He didn't even attend Maxim's funeral."

Dean picked up on the change in Joshua's tone. He understood being protective of one's family. "Jim used to say all roads lead home."

"Digging up bones in ones backyard is never easy." Joshua gestured to the cleared spot. "I suspect it is why Missouri finds it painful to discuss her father, and why my grandmother never mentioned her past with the Mosleys."

Dean used the blade to trace The Triad circles, a chill dancing up his spine as he closed the last link. Air stirred around them, lifting the leaves, shaking the branches of the trees. The image flared to life, glowing bright silver. "That's new."

Joshua rocked back on his heels. "Things are different now. This is not merely a symbol anymore; it's a gateway to a power source."

"Like tapping an ethereal vein." Dean handed Joshua the blade before placing his brother's compass in one of the circles, Caleb's journal in another. "That's not at all daunting."

"It's why more protection is required. Like what Missouri created at the farm while we were on consecrated land. Adam theorizes that using the symbol without proper knowledge is akin to handling plutonium."

"Way to make a guy feel better."

"You would rather I sugarcoat it?"

"Why add finesse to your repertoire when I'm just growing to appreciate you." Dean twisted his ring. "What now?"

"We shall see." Joshua picked up the map, placing it over the Triad symbol. He whispered a verse, tossing a scattering of herbs onto the skin. The light of The Triad glowed through, but nothing appeared.

"You know they say one definition of insanity is performing the same task over and over expecting different results to manifest."

Dean and Joshua turned to find a man in a long wool coat with a red scarf and black leather gloves outside their salt ring. He was blond, in his twenties, and looked as if he could have just departed a Broadway show and stumbled across them by accident. "Who are you?"

"Joshua knows who I am."

"This is Malachi Harris."

Dean stood, Joshua joining him. "The traitor I've heard so much about."

Malachi inclined his head. "And you're Dean Winchester. The Guardian I have heard so much about. You were quite the talk down in the pit. It wasn't the first Triad member to venture down stairs. They've had an Advisor or two; your father was the first Knight, but a Guardian, even one in waiting-now that was something new. Although I must admit the fact you broke only after forty years on the rack was somewhat disappointing. I lost several bets on that one."

"Shut up."

Malachi looked to Joshua. "I see you've lost track of two members of your Triad yet again, Witch?"

"They've been taken, yes."

"And you're scrying for them?" Malachi shook his head. "Perhaps you're not as bright as I thought you were."

"He was smart enough to bring you here." Dean stepped closer to the edge of the salt circle, only inches from Malachi, whose wing-tipped shoes nearly rested against the barrier.

"Me and countless other things far worse." Malachi's blue eyes danced with amusement. "Salt won't hold Triad energy for long. The longer you hold the doorway open, the more things catch the signal. They will be drawn to its light like a moth to a flame, and I'm not just speaking of the supernatural entities you all are accustomed to. Your Advisor has put you at great risk, Guardian."

"I'll take my chances."

"If I had put the proper boundaries in place, such as a living shield, then you wouldn't have sensed us as quickly." Joshua gestured to Malachi.

Dean remembered the steps Missouri had taken during the ceremony. She had used artifacts from The Tomb as well as Ethan, Eli and Bobby's presence as a shield.

"So, I was the intended quarry, not The Knight and Scholar?" Malachi seemed pleased. He clasped his hands in front of him. "To what do I owe this summons?"

"I know there is a way to call a missing Triad member," Joshua said. "Something beyond scrying. My grandfather wrote of it in his journal."

"But you have no idea how to recreate it." Malachi studied Joshua, his lip curling slightly. "In my time men competed to be The Advisor. They were champions among their peers. The Guardian held games that drew men and women from all over. It was a coveted position that demanded the crafter chosen be as quick with a gun and intelligence as he was a wand. It was as Merlin intended. I'm afraid you would have not measured up, young witch."

"But it was your betrayal that changed all that," Joshua said. "I'm not as ill-informed as you imagine. I've done my homework. I know after you murdered your Knight and Guardian, Samuel Colt swore no Advisor would ever again be chosen from outside The Brotherhood. They would be watched and cultivated as hunters just as the Triad members."

Malachi glanced to Dean. "It explains why the excellence of that position declined so swiftly after my untimely demise. The Brotherhood isn't always bursting to the seams with talented witches and warlocks."

"I think I'm speaking for all Guardians when I say screw being quick with the wand. I'd prefer my Advisor not be so swift with putting a bullet in my back."

"Guardians and your stringent code of loyalty." Malachi tugged at his leather gloves. "If you would have known Daniel Wilmington and Cole Tanner, you might not be so harsh to judge me."

"We didn't bring you here to discuss your Triad or your past debauchery," Joshua said. "I need your assistance with the spell."

"And why would I help you?"

"Because if you don't we'll be quick to dispatch your ass straight back to Hell. I'm pretty sure exorcisms haven't changed much since your day."

Malachi's smile slowly faded. He gazed at the ground around him. Some of the leaves had dislodged, revealing the white spray painted devil's trap.

"My, my. You are quite devious." He reappraised Dean. "I like that in a Guardian."

"That really shouldn't surprise you after all the tongue-wagging down in the pit."

Malachi seemed to consider his options, his smiled beamed clearly in the faint lantern light. "It has been a century since I've aided in such power. The only thing that could make this sweeter is if the complete Triad was present." He met Joshua's gaze. "You understand what I mean, Advisor. You have tasted it now, yes? Nothing quite like the pure energy that Merlin granted his holy trinity."

"If _my_ Triad were present, you would not be granted presence here, no matter how inconsequential. Your time has come and gone."

Malachi clapped. "Well said. There's that inkling of promise I saw twinkling in your eyes on that first night we met. Possessiveness suits you."

"Don't get cocky, Harris." Dean pulled The Colt from the holster at the back of his jeans. "I can always skip the exorcism, spare myself the Latin. A bullet to the head and Hell won't be the consolation prize."

"I haven't seen that weapon in some time, not since the harlot and her demon spawn were dispatched." Malachi's smile wavered. Dean would have guessed the look on his face was one of grief if he hadn't believed demons incapable of true sentiment. "Samuel had an amazing talent and an eye for craftsmanship as well. He was by far my favorite of the three, no where near as dull-witted as the other two."

"Let's get on with this." Dean cocked the gun. "Tell Josh what to do. Now."

"It's not really got anything to do with him. It's what you must do." Malachi gestured to the salt. "Shall I?"

Dean kept the gun pointed at Malachi as he dragged his boot across the salt circle. "Don't think I'll hesitate in blowing you away."

Malachi paid the threat no mind, going straight to The Triad symbol. He knelt, removing the map. "Your tools, Witch."

Joshua clenched his jaw, picking up his leather pouch. He held it out to the demon. "If you must address me, call me Joshua."

"So we're on a first name basis now?" Malachi took the bag. "That's faster than I imagined."

"Less talking, more working." Dean hovered above them.

"It's not that you haven't gotten the right idea, _Joshua_- only that you've missed it completely. You are thinking too concretely." Malachi leaned over The Triad symbol, removing Caleb's journal and Sam's compass. "These items represent the men you know, not the positions they hold."

Joshua knelt across from him. "Explain."

"Merlin understood magic at its most basic. He created The Triad with that understanding. "

"Merlin was the first alchemist," Joshua said. "His work was a precursor to much of the magic traditional covens use today."

"Yes. So it would make sense he used the basics nature offered when creating the power source for his disciples to mankind. Something that would be around for the ages."

"The elements."

"The elements." Malachi pulled the cauldron closer to him, using a branch to catch some of the flame. He placed it on the symbol. "Fire for The Knight. Merlin had a fascination with it, you know. Many believed it was tied to his demon side, but fire is sorely misunderstood. It is energy in its purest form. Like the sun that gives life. Fire can create or destroy. Merlin was quite the pyromaniac. He enjoyed blowing things up. All Knights inherit a spark of that. Cole Tanner was fascinated by dynamite. He worked the railroad as a boy, just so he could learn to use it from the Chinamen."

Dean looked at Joshua, recognizing the annoyance in his eyes. He wanted to suggest that maybe all Advisors were haughty and talked a lot, but decided not to poke the tiger. "Damien is handy with the C-4."

Malachi reached a hand into Joshua's pouch, coming away with several crystals which he placed alongside Sam's compass. "Simpletons might believe that carving the Triad symbol in the earth would be symbolic enough, but it's best to use objects that channel the true spirit of the element. Quartz, sandstone, amber. Any crystal, actually. Fossils work well also. This pelt is good." Malachi laid his hand on Adam's map. "The Scholar has sovereignty over the creatures of earth as well. He can learn to use them if trained properly."

"Explains why all the strays find Sammy." Dean remembered Jim's comparison to The Guardian being like a nesting doll, layer after layer of new surprises. He was beginning to understand just how narrow his vision had been over the years.

"Dogs and horses were always fond of my Samuel." Malachi glanced up at Dean. "He had a pet pig and rooster that Daniel forbade in the main house of the ranch. They were constantly arguing over trivial matters. Guardian and Knight have always seemed to be a little more alike. Scholars are better understood by Advisors. Perhaps, because we're usually on a considerably higher intelligence level."

"Can we get on with this?" Joshua tapped his knife on the symbol. "We didn't bring you here for reminiscing."

Malachi laughed. "Were you this impatient when learning the craft? I feel for Missouri Mosley."

"The Guardian represents water." Joshua didn't rise to the bait. "It's the most abundant element."

"Oxygen is the most abundant element on Earth," Dean pointed out. "Hydrogen is the most abundant in the universe."

"Who's Mister Science now?" Joshua glowered at him. "Technically water is comprised of both those elements. H2O, yes? Besides, you know what I mean."

"It's good to see things do not change much in Triads." Malachi smiled. "For sanity sake we will say air and water are one. It is no coincidence that three fourths the earth is covered by water in some form or another or that it composes most of the human body. It is why The Guardian is able to tap into the magic whilst solo where Scholar and Knight could not do so." Malachi returned his attention to the symbol. He gestured to the flask on Dean's hip. Dean unclipped it and handed it to Harris, who let a stream of it run through the bottom circle. They all watched at it trailed over the dirt, zigzagging as if it were alive before absorbing into the ground. "Part of water's strength is that it has no form of its own. It can hide within the earth, flows around any obstacle in its path, or merely douse obstructions."

"It's eternally stubborn." Joshua flashed Dean a look.

"I resemble that remark." Dean crouched next to them, but kept the weapon at the ready. "What do I need to do?"

Malachi placed the flask to his side. "What do you wish to gain from calling upon the Triad power?"

"You know what we want, Harris." Dean was tired of the theatrics. For all his great knowledge of nature and science, the most useful thing Dean knew of Merlin creating was Excalibur. "I want to know where my brother and Caleb are."

"Then _will_ the magic to yield to your commands-wish it so."

"I don't understand."

"The Guardian's ability is not mine to explain. Some things are not to be understood, only accepted. Magic has no boundaries." Malachi inclined his head to the weapon in Dean's hand. "You did not need to understand how Samuel Colt's gun worked to use it to kill Azazel."

"He's right, Dean. You did this at The Sinks," Joshua said. "And at the ceremony."

"No one quite understands how The Guardian brings all of this together, only that he can. His magic is as constant as all water ways leading to the sea. Water connects things, binds them." Malachi placed his hands together in prayer position to demonstrate the seal he was describing. Dean noticed the band on Harris's right ring finger. It was made of their silver, but missing the energy that ran through the bands hunters wore. The ring was for lack of a better word, dormant. Dead. It sent warning bells screaming, the little voice inside Dean's head said to hurry the hell up so they could kick Malachi to the curb. "That ability is yours alone."

Dean lifted his hand over the interlocking circles. The light grew brighter, bathing the entire protection circle in false moonlight. He concentrated on the holy water Malachi had poured, felt its resounding tug as it rose from the earth to sit atop the symbol again, like beaded rain on the Impala's freshly waxed hood. The drops began to quiver. They divided and multiplied, merging into a stream that stretched out past the interlocking circle. The silver water snaked toward the map Adam had made, shimmering over the surface.

Joshua and Malachi disappeared from Dean's view. He became the liquid silver as it zigzagged across the soft leather like an out of control Etch-a-Sketch. On the map, lines flowed together, bringing to life an image of the United States. Michigan's two peninsulas darkened at the top, the rest of the country seeping into the pelt. The state expanded, cities appearing as dots, one silver pinprick brighter than the rest.

Dean wasn't sure how it was possible but he knew the name of the city the map was showing him. It echoed in his ear as a siren's song. He dropped his hand, the silver faded away so the map was left damp but once again blank. "Traverse City."

"That was quite the rush." Malachi threw his head back and laughed. "I missed it more than I remembered."

"Are you alright?" Dean felt Joshua's hand brush against his arm, blinked his concerned face into view. "You're pale. Perhaps you should sit down."

"No." Dean pulled away, rubbing his hunter's band. It was almost painfully alive with energy. Dean sensed the echo of his brother and Caleb.

"Performing a spell without your counterparts is draining." Malachi pointed to Dean. "It's like throwing a boomerang while quite not prepared for the force with which it might return."

"You could have shared that beforehand," Joshua snapped.

"Some things are better learned first hand."

Their predicament cleared Dean's head, steadying his legs. "We need to get back to Mac's and get a rescue party underway."

"I look forward to meeting the former Scholar. It will be good to be reunited with brethren." Malachi tossed dirt on the smoldering branch, pocketing Joshua's crystals.

"That wasn't an invitation," Dean tightened his grip on The Colt. "You're not exactly the kind of hook-up we bring home to meet the family."

"Now I know how one of your one night stands feels." Malachi stood. "So dirty."

"What are you going to do?" Joshua asked.

Dean lifted the gun, priming the trigger. "I'm going to finish what Samuel Colt started a hundred years ago."

"Samuel didn't kill me." Malachi chuckled, looking from Dean to Joshua. "Is that what you think?"

"He would have if given the chance." It was Sam's theory The Scholar had hunted down and killed the man responsible for his Knight's and Guardian's death. Dean would have done the same thing if he had been cast in that position. He wasn't swayed by Malachi's denial.

"Perhaps, but you need my help more than he did," Malachi switched tactics. "His brothers were already past his help. You have no idea what you're walking into. I could be of great use, if nothing else than for the cloaking I could offer you."

"We don't work with demons."

"Please." Malachi snorted. "Does saying that make you feel better? Don't fool yourself, Dean Winchester. James Murphy did not work with demons. You on the other hand will work with those who help you achieve your agenda. You weren't Alistair's star pupil for nothing. And don't think your escapade with the Antichrist child and Crowley has not made its rounds. I won't even mention your brother's transgressions. Then there is the fallen angel you're currently flaunting about town. Lines are not only blurred now, they are non-existent."

Dean's finger twitched on the trigger. "You're not helping your case."

"He has a point, Dean."

Dean cut his eyes to Josh. "What?"

"We don't know how things are going to play out in this situation or the bigger one at hand."

"This magic is only the tip of the iceberg to what The Triad power can do, Guardian." Malachi played the ace up his sleeve. "You've been searching for something to defeat Lucifer before he slips into Sam like an Armani suit. I can help you find what you seek."

Dean lowered the gun, stepping to the outer edge of the devil's trap. He reached down and scooped up a patch of earth, effectively breaking the seal. "Get the hell out of here, Harris."

Malachi glanced at Joshua. "But Traverse City?"

"We can handle things on our own."

"Suit yourself." He reached up and wrapped his red scarf tighter about his neck. "I would take great care however because I hear a very talented witch is involved with this Beckett Moreau you're searching for. Traverse City is lit up with wards. The charming little town looks like a magical version of Vegas. The public hanging is scheduled to take place tomorrow."

"Hanging?" The word caught in Dean's throat.

"Barbaric, I know. I could imagine worse things as can you."

Joshua stepped forward. "You knew where they were all along?"

Malachi shrugged. "You didn't ask me where Beckett was, only how to do the spell to call for a lost Triad member, which by the way was the most fun I've had in years. Thank you for summoning me, Joshua. I will repay you."

"Son of a…" Dean raised the gun, firing. Malachi disappeared without a trace, a small piece of paper fluttering to the ground in his wake.

Joshua knelt to pick it up. He turned it over and held it out to Dean. "Malachi Harris's professional modeling business card. He's written his cell phone number on the back."

Dean read the 'call me' and growled at the cutesy smiley face icon. "I should have killed the bastard when I had the chance."

"No. You made the right choice." Joshua slid the card into his pocket. He knelt and started to gather his things. "Now we need to remove all traces of the ceremony and get out of here. The gunshot will not go unnoticed."

Dean returned The Colt to his holster, knowing Joshua was right about their need to clear the area. He wasn't sure if he made the decision a Guardian should have. Maybe he would have to live with making the only one a brother could have. They had a location, name and timeframe now. He ran his thumb over his silver band, hoping Sam and Caleb could somehow sense him. '_Just hold on. We're coming.'_

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

Vengeance is Mine

PART 5

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Please note that this story takes place after the episode The Song Remains the Same and **prior** to the episode My Bloody Valentine. In AU time, it's still Christmas.

Tidia and I are never ones to beg or extort reviews, we leave it up to the reader, but we have noticed a decrease in reviews. The stats on ffnet report more people are actually reading. This leads me to think, if there are that many people reading, but not reviewing, then something must be off with the story or the writing. Therefore we have some questions; (1) Do you like the storyline? Just over the whole thing? (2) Do you not review because we consistently post? Your reply to this would be greatly appreciated as it is a way for us to grow as writers.

RCJ

"So that's the bitch who took out Elkins?"

"Yeah." Sam stopped his investigation of their new holdings to glance at Caleb. He convinced The Knight to sit down and let him check the room out, but Caleb was perched on the edge of the twin bed, waiting to pounce on any prospect Sam might find for their escape. Liam hadn't taken them back to the cellar after their informative meeting with Beckett. Instead their host proposed a more civilized arena as a show of good faith. It was a sparsely decorated room off to the side of the kitchen.

Sam supposed it was designed for the family chef, but in Beckett's situation it went unneeded and therefore unused. There were no windows, but it was close to an outside exit, which did them little good considering the two vampires guarding the door. "I haven't seen her since Dad blew her mate away."

"Luther was the vampire Johnny tested The Colt on?"

"It was a standoff situation. Luther was going to kill me." Sam leaned against the small chest of drawers. The energy he'd siphoned from adrenaline was failing him. He remembered his father raising the weapon against Luther, pulling the trigger without a second of hesitation. Sam wanted to believe it was done out of fear, not a test to see if the legends were true. If nothing else, John Winchester always seemed sure of himself, confident in whatever split-second decision he was called upon to make. Sam wished for that kind of clarity. "Kate watched it happen."

"That explains her perverse look of pleasure at seeing you." Caleb ran a hand through his hair. "And her giddy anticipation at the prospects of putting a bullet in Deuce."

"Beckett found the one vampire that has a grudge against us."

"The man's not stupid. Beckett's killing two birds with one stone. I think that bastard really believes that by taking us out he's going to paint himself as some kind of hanging judge, hero right out of the pages of a dime store novel."

"He kept mentioning an associate, someone who guaranteed he'd be protected from The Brotherhood."

"Fuck the associate," Caleb growled. "He plans on Dean finding us after the fact because that's where Kate comes in. She'll look like a renegade blinded by grief. Beckett gets rid of The Guardian without being blamed for his death."

"That's why he didn't act concerned about consequences of murdering us." Sam joined Caleb by the bed. "He's planning to take out the whole Triad, counting on The Brotherhood falling apart."

"He's right about that," Caleb stood up, one arm holding his side. "Mac wouldn't be able to rein it back in. I doubt if Beckett was bluffing about watching those closest to us. He's probably planning hits on Ethan, Eli-anyone that could be a threat after we're gone. All Jim's work, all our sacrifices, goes up in smoke."

Sam palmed his eyes, dark spots flashing on and off as the pain in his head sparked suddenly. He would have blamed it on dehydration, if not for the tingling which started at the base of his ring finger, dancing along his right arm. The unfamiliar sensation raced across his chest before curling up in the pit of his stomach like a fat cat in a chair. It purred, vibrating his whole body.

"Holy shit," Caleb said. "Did you feel that?"

Sam opened his eyes, seeing his surprise mirrored in The Knight's gold eyes. "You felt it, too?"

"Hell yes." Caleb touched his ring, nodding. "Major disturbance in The Force, Luke."

"Triad power?" Sam experienced a similar feeling during the ceremony. It was the only thing he could compare it to.

"Deuce is trying to find us." Caleb braced himself against the bed post. He looked as bad as Sam felt. "He's going to walk right into Beckett's trap."

"You know Dean better than that." Sam knew his brother was smart, and this wasn't the first time someone had used them against one another. Like Dean once said, they were each other's biggest weakness. "Mac and Castiel will keep him from doing anything rash."

"_You_ know your brother better than that." Caleb's gaze narrowed. "We're missing; The Triad link is wide open now."

"Meaning he probably knows what's been happening to us." Sam rubbed his ring, understanding his brother would not only know, but would have caught the resonance of their ordeal. He thought of Cold Oak, how Dean had gotten there too late to save him. Dean considered that his greatest failure-the point when everything took a turn for the worse. Fear of it happening again would make him more reckless than usual.

"We have to get out of here," Caleb said. "Save our own asses, warn him. We're The Knight and The Scholar for fuck's sake. The entire Brotherhood is at stake."

"There are no windows, and I can sense at least two guards at the one and only door." Sam wanted the same thing, but couldn't help but see their situation logically.

"So we take them out."

"Right." Sam sat down on the bed. "Have at it, Rocky."

"You saw the back door out of here just as well as I did, Sammy. Underestimating us was a misstep on Beckett's part." Caleb sat beside him, lowering his voice to a bare whisper. "We have to take advantage of it. He thinks we're too weak to try anything."

"We _are _too weak to try anything!" Sam hissed. "Did you already forget what Liam did to you? We're barely a match for them in hand to hand on a good day. We had crossbows and our abilities in Pittsburgh, and we still nearly got our asses handed to us."

"We can level the playing field if you'll just listen to what I'm saying." Caleb reached out, gripped Sam's wrist. "Put my idea about the demon blood back on the table."

"You're on that again." Sam tried to evade Caleb's grip, but the older hunter held firm.

"You heard Beckett. The only thing keeping him from killing us is the big exhibition he has planned for tomorrow night. He's waiting for other vampires to arrive for the show. There's no telling how many will be here even if Dean gets here in time." Caleb held up his hand, flashing his ring. "We can't let The Triad be destroyed, Sammy. You know that. It's bigger than just us now."

"It took everything I had to stop the first time." Sam was feeling that ugly desperation take root.

"This isn't like before." Caleb let him go. "You're not sneaking around, working with a demon. We're doing it together, as Knight and Scholar."

"What if that makes it even more wrong? We violate the code and lose our rings for good?"

"I don't think so. Jim knew what we were capable of. He didn't want us to deny our gifts, but use them for good."

"I'm not sure Jim would have chosen me to be The Scholar if he knew what was to come." Sam was certain Jim never imagined one of his boys would have started the apocalypse.

"Are you kidding me?" Caleb leaned his elbows on his knees, looking over at Sam. "You were Jim's favorite. He let you get away with murder."

"I was terrible to him." Sam shook his head, remembering his last trip to the farm before Stanford.

"When?" Caleb frowned.

"Before I went to school, it was not one of my finer moments." Sam never got the chance to apologize, fate and Meg conspired together to take his opportunity.

"I can't see Jim trying to convince you to stay. The preacher was all about choices."

"It was what he didn't say that pissed me off." Sam glanced at the other hunter. "I wanted him to say I was right and Dad was wrong. I just wanted someone to be on my side for once."

"He was on your side, Runt."

"I know that now. At the time I felt betrayed by his impartiality." In Sam's eyes Dean sided with their father, Caleb automatically sided with Dean. Mac and Bobby had attempted to be Switzerland, which only left the pastor. The Guardian was a key member of the family for Sam to win over. Sam had practiced his final argument for a week, needing some kind of validation for the decision he had reached. "I gave him this stirring speech, and when he didn't react the way I wanted, I lumped him into the enemy's quarters, quoting his favorite scholar, Desiderius Erasmas. _'He who allows oppression, shares the crime.'_"

"Ouch." Caleb snorted. "I'm sure Mac would have appreciated the pompous reference."

"Jim was hurt. I could see, but I didn't take it back." Sam held Caleb's gaze. "He sent letters to Stanford, care packages. I never replied in kind, never returned his calls."

"Dude, Jim didn't hold any of that against you. He was your biggest proponent, never let me say one bad word about you in his company."

Sam rolled his eyes. "That's good to know."

Caleb smirked, bumping Sam's shoulder. "God knows Bobby got sick of hearing me bitch about you."

"I bet."

"Just so you know, Johnny wasn't the only one who ordered me out to California on a monthly rotation to keep tabs on you over the years. Pastor Jim never lost faith you would come home someday, and I'm not talking about Jessica's death dragging you back into hunting." Caleb pointed to the silver band on Sam's hand. "The old man knew you'd be ready to take on the position of Scholar. He believed in the kind of man you would be-the kind of Triad we would become. A little demon blood could never change how much he loved us."

"That's just it, man. I'm not sure if I'm the person he hoped for. I don't even recognize myself half the time."

"When I look at you I still see that innocent five year old who wanted to send Santa a valentine. I see the loyal twelve year old who would go to any lengths for his big brother. I also see the smartass teen who stood his ground with his old man to fight for a better life for his family. You are still all those people, Kiddo, only smarter. The same guy who sits here now."

"Does it do any good for me to point out that you're biased, and you're trying to convince me to see your side of things?"

"The only thing I'm trying to convince you of is to use your strengths, the least of which have anything to do with your psychic abilities. Become The Scholar Jim believed you would be."

"By making another mistake?"

"By doing what it takes to save The Brotherhood."

"You mean doing what you want."

"Does that necessarily make it wrong?"

"You and Dean always do this." Sam stood, running his hands through his hair. "You bully me. You treat me like a kid by thinking you automatically know what's best for me."

"I'm not going to apologize for doing my job. I'm The Knight." Caleb pushed himself onto shaky legs. Sam crossed his arms, resisting the urge to reach out and steady his friend. "I've been watching out for you and Dean since I was thirteen. If you haven't noticed by now, I'm not cut out for inaction. I will do anything to protect what's mine."

"You're obsessed. Just like Dad."

"Your dad's obsession made him one hell of a Knight."

"It made him a terrible father."

"I can't argue that fact." Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose, swaying slightly. "But I do know Johnny's heart was always in a good place. He was trying to do the right thing."

"That's all I'm trying to do," Sam looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath to clear his foggy head. "It's all I do all day long-try to do the **right** thing. It's fucking exhausting."

"Then we understand each other."

"I thought so after the Triad ceremony." Sam stepped closer to Caleb in case The Knight keeled over. Becoming The Scholar had given Sam the first twinges of hope, a hint of promise he was finally on the road to redemption. Never in a million years would he have dreamed his salvation would come through servitude to The Brotherhood, but he began to comprehend the appreciation his brother and Caleb had for the cause.

"Becoming The Triad was just the warm up," Caleb said softly. "The real race is just beginning."

"Great." Sam felt like he'd already run a triathlon a few times over. "I'm not sure I'm up for it."

"Mac says each Triad has their own trials to overcome, a different rhythm they have to learn. I used to think we'd have an easier time of it being more traditional, having grown up together, that maybe we wouldn't knock heads like Johnny and Dad. Now, I think it's harder, because we have all these preset beliefs and expectations."

"Roles we fall in to." Sam realized he had been playing from the old script as well. "Like me thinking you and Dean have only one motivation."

"Dude, Deuce is like the fucking pond at the farm." Caleb looked down at his hand, twisting his hunter's band. "He reflects back what others need to see, keeping his own shit beneath the surface. When it comes to him, you have to go deeper to discover what's stirring below. If you'd listen to your gut more often than your head, you'd know that."

"No." Sam bit his lip. "You're just better at getting past his defenses."

"Please." Caleb groaned. "No one can get to Dean like you."

Sam knew it was true. He had a connection with his brother that transcended rationale. "I can't let him down again, Caleb. I promised him I'd never betray his trust."

"You're not. He'll understand, and he'll forgive us." Caleb gave a half smile. "Eventually."

"What if I can't stop it this time?"

"My blood is different than the run of the mill possessed person. Like pure heroine, wasn't that what Ruby said. It won't take much."

"It might not work. I'm out of practice." Sam knew that wasn't true. He could feel the power stir inside him, anticipation building like a tidal wave. He tried one last rebuttal. "What if you drink my blood? You're a more powerful psychic than I am. It might work better."

"I'm not so sure I'm more adept than you, and now's not the time to experiment, Runt. Besides, you're forgetting a very important part. Despite what you believe about what Azazel did to you, _y__ou're _not a demon."

"Neither are you!"

"One sixteenth of my family tree says I am. Just ask Castiel. Besides your and Liam's taste buds can't be wrong."

"God, you're an ass." Sam growled, wishing he had never made that joke.

"Keep thinking that." Caleb grinned, patting Sam's knee. He crossed the room, taking a picture frame from the dresser. It held a black and white photo of a grinning little boy. Caleb slid the photograph out as he walked back to Sam, letting it fall to the floor. He gripped the glass in both hands, snapping it in two. "Maybe it'll make it easier on you if you're pissed at me. Anger is a good weapon."

"Nothing about this is easy." Sam stood, staring down at the broken glass resting against the inside of Caleb's arm where Liam had left his mark. He lifted his gaze to The Knight. "I am _definitely_ pissed at you, and stop quoting Dad."

"I'm sorry." Caleb didn't continue with his expected humor. "I wouldn't ask you to do this if there was any other way."

"I know. You can't help yourself."

"It'll be okay." Caleb continued to look at him as he used the edge of the glass to reopen the old wound. "Just think of it as an unorthodox transfusion. I'd easily give you a kidney, Runt, this is no different."

"I can't wait to see how Dean takes that comparison." Sam appreciated the fact his friend took great care not to flinch. "I don't know how much it will take."

"Just remember I need to be able to walk out of here." Caleb gave a nod.

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the coppery smell had his stomach twisting, but the taste of power in the air dampened the nausea. Ruby's face flashed through his mind so he used Caleb's assurances to push her taunting image away.

He had to believe they were making the right choice, the only one available to them. It was hard to escape the fear he and Caleb were failing some kind of cosmic test as the newly elected Scholar and Knight. That what they were doing might leave Jim shaking his head in disappointment, and Lucifer with a smug smile of satisfaction. But then the energy surged inside him, unleashing the animal yanking at its chain, and Sam Winchester let go, embracing the opportunity at hand.

RcJ*SnsnsnsN*RcJ

The large silence of the snowy fields was unexpected. Caleb didn't know what they would find once outside Beckett's mansion, but wide open country blanketed in all of winter's glory was a disappointment. It made running more difficult, tracking them easier for their already adept opponents. A city would have been nice, even a ritzy suburb. Anything that would have provided them with a shot to snatch a ride, grab a phone, or secure some kind of weapons. Luck was not their bitch tonight.

His plan had worked to some degree. Thanks to the demon blood coursing through him, Sam had gotten them out of the room, past the two guards. It had been impressive to watch. Telekinesis was never in Caleb's repertoire of talents, but if he ever coveted an ability, it would have been first on his list. Sam made harnessing his psychic energy look easy, which left Caleb with a mixed bag of emotions including pride and more than a little guilt. Deuce was going to kick his ass.

Caleb shivered. Sam shifted closer to him. There hadn't been time to strip the headless vampires of their coats, which left Sam and Caleb out in the elements with t-shirts and jeans, now wet from running through snow-burdened trees. He had managed to grab a couple of bottles of sparkling water from a counter as he passed. Caleb pulled one from the back of his jeans. He took a long drink, offering it to Sam. The younger hunter took the bottle, wiping the back of his arm over his forehead. They were both sweating from the long run, breathing hard. Their panting created little clouds of condensation in the darkness. Even beneath the canopy of bushes where they chanced a momentary rest, Caleb could make out the worry in the younger hunter's gaze.

'_Are you okay?' _Sam's voice was too loud and sharp in his head, like the dry snow squeaking beneath his boots as they ran. It didn't take much energy to access their link, especially now that they were bound by The Triad and in such close proximity, but Caleb could feel the further sapping of his strength.

'I_'m fine.'_ Caleb winced. _'Stop asking.'_

'_Sure you are.' _Sam took another drink, handing the bottle back to Caleb. He scanned the darkness around them, his hand still wrapped around the bloodied butcher's blade. Putting them beside a well-equipped kitchen really was an asinine move on Beckett's part in more ways than one. His cutlery came in handy in their escape. If only the cupboard had come stocked with dead man's blood, GPS and crossbows.

Caleb finished off the bottle, tossing it in the opposite direction they were heading. _'We have to be somewhere in the North.' _

At least they had made it to the tree line, dense forest offering them some cover. Caleb looked up at the night sky cursing the cloud cover for denying them even the stars as guides. He tried to catch his breath. His heart was pounding in his chest, resisting the strain he was putting his taxed body through. Trees swayed overhead, the bare branches casting strange dancing shadows over the white pallet ground. He could hear water somewhere close by, but no sounds of cars or civilization, which is what he had secretly been banking on. He blinked away the vertigo.

Sam's touch anchored him. '_Maybe New England.'_

Caleb took a deep breath. '_Terrain's similar, but it could be fucking Canada considering Beckett's dialect and his mention of the Canadian railways_.'

'_Either way, we need to keep moving.' _Sam's eyes went to the darkness once more. '_They've realized we're gone."_

'_Shit." _Caleb had hoped for more time. Sam had accomplished the task of killing the vampires with relative stealth. Their escape hadn't been the most thought out plan, but it wasn't as if a brilliant strategy was much of an option. Anything was better than waiting helplessly for the hangman.

They had one chance and one chance only. Get out, get out quick, take the enemy by surprise. He hoped they were as far away as possible before the vamps knew what was happening, using whatever resources they encountered. Inaction was not The Knight's strong point, neither was running blind. Caleb felt as if he'd gotten them out of the frying pan only to land their asses right in the fire.

'_It won't take them long to catch our scent.'_

'_Great.'_ Running blind was of course their only course of action, but Caleb hadn't counted on being so out of it. He was slowing Sam down. _'We'll split up. It will confuse them.'_

Sam gripped his arm tighter. _'I'm not leaving you behind.'_

'_I can track you through our link. We'll meet up.'_

'_You can barely keep track of our conversation.' _The John Winchester face was back.

Caleb rolled his eyes. _'If we get caught, all of this is for nothing.'_

'_Let's go.' _Sam tugged him to his feet, gave him a hard shove. _'Run.'_

Caleb let his instincts take over, propelling his body to move. He tried to keep up with Sam, pushing through the trees and branches. He thought of the brutal maneuvers John had put them through over the years, preparing them for just such a situation. But Caleb fell back to the path Mac had opened up for him when he forced him to take martial arts as a teen.

Disciplining his mind was beneficial not only to his psychic ability. Watching his breath was a way of escaping the pain of the body to push deeper, to keep going when every fiber in his body screamed to lie down and quit.

'_They're closing in.' _

'_Stop with the updates.'_

Sam kept up their silent dialogue. _'Liam, some others, and Kate.' _

'_You got enough juice left to take them?' _Caleb wondered how long the effects of his blood would last on Sam's abilities, how much of his power had been used by killing the two vampires back at Beckett's.

'_No.'_

Caleb stopped, leaning over to brace himself on his knees. He didn't bother using their link. There was no need now. "Give me the knife, Sammy. I'll hold them off as long as I can."

"Are you crazy?" Sam grabbed his arm, giving him a hard yank.

"Give me the damn knife." Caleb straightened, reaching for Sam's arm. He was tapping his last reserves and knew it. It was likely he'd be unconscious before the vampires even got to him.

Sam batted his hand down, holding the blade out in front of him to cover them as best he could as he swung around to face the darkness. "It's too late for that."

"Naughty, naughty boys." Kate broke through the branches, not even winded. "Someone left a mess in Beckett's kitchen. He's pissed."

Sam raised his hand. She was lifted off her feet, tossed roughly against one of the hulking evergreens. There was no cause for celebration because Liam and his boys were on them like rabid wolves. Caleb threw a punch at one. He might as well have been shadow boxing. He was grabbed from behind, a meaty forearm locked across his throat. Caleb thought his neck might snap.

Through the dark spots sparking off and on in Caleb's line of vision he saw Liam tackle Sam, taking them both to the ground. There was a flash of silver, and he recognized his own weapon and what was going to happen seconds before Sam cried out.

"You sonofabitch!" Caleb struggled to break free, determined to follow through on his earlier promise of tearing Liam's head off barehanded.

Liam drove the Dragon's Talon into Sam's shoulder with enough force to stake him to the ground. He leaned over the struggling young hunter, grinning. "I should leave you for the wolves to pick your bones clean, Winchester."

"I'll get things started by tearing his throat out." Kate had made it to her feet, shaking snow from her hair as she stomped towards Sam. "Hanging a corpse won't be half as fun, but we'll still have a body to show the spectators."

"No!" Caleb tried to scrap together enough psychic energy to distract the bitch, maybe fry a circuit. His abilities rallied, but at the last minute fizzled out.

"Easy now, Babe." Liam held up a hand, intercepting Kate. "Beckett wants them alive and relatively in one piece."

"Fuck, Beckett. That could have been one of us he slaughtered. It's dangerous to wait. Beckett doesn't understand their breed like we do. Hunters can't be taken too lightly, especially these hunters."

"Don't lose your head, sweetheart."

"Don't patronize me, you ass." Kate hesitated. "I'm not afraid of Beckett."

"Then think about what you'll be denying yourself. The revenge of seeing Winchester's face when he finds these two dangling from the end of a noose, the way you'll feel when you use Colt's gun to finish him off, just as his old man finished Luther."

"That will never happen," Sam said through gritted teeth.

Caleb was glad to hear the kid's voice, even if he seemed to be taking a page out of Deuce's favorite book appropriately titled, 'Not knowing when to keep your mouth shut'. Now was not the time for Sam to invoke his older brother.

"We'll see won't we?" Liam reached for the Talon's handle, jerking it free with a vicious yank. Caleb felt the thunder of pain roll through their psychic link, his hunter's ring burned as if the metal had received a volt of electricity. Sam struggled, biting back on the scream lodged in his throat. The younger hunter curled in to protect himself. Kate lashed out with her boot, kicking him for his trouble.

"Bitch." Caleb fought harder to break free, forcing the vampire holding him to apply more pressure to his throat. It was too much. Blackness settled over him like the snap of a magician's cape. The last image burned in his mind was that of Liam and Kate looming over Sam.

To be continued…


	6. Chapter 6

Vengeance is Mine

Chapter 6

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Sorry for the repost. A reviewer pointed out some dialogue that didn't belong and that I had missed, so I took this chapter down to revamp.

RCJ

"No!" Dean startled awake, searching the area for the latest threat. He was thankful the train car he and Joshua were on was empty as he tried to steady himself. The rumbling of the train was louder without the hordes of passengers.

Dean had not meant to sleep, only resting his eyes for a moment as they made the quick trek from Penn Station to Central Park West and Mac's place. It seemed his exhausted body had other plans.

"Are you alright?" Joshua was sitting across from Dean, the lights from the outside tunnel flashing off and on behind him.

"I'm good." Dean took a shaky breath, trying for reassuring even though he was far from alright.

"Nightmare?" Joshua put away the paper he was reading.

"No." Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth, swallowing the bitter bile at the back of his throat. He wasn't sure what it was- a flash of images. A streak of silver, then snow, stained red. Dean thought he sensed Damien for a moment, like catching a blur out of the corner of your eye. He'd tried to latch on to his friend, but it was like catching a shadow. He felt guilty, and more frightened than he would ever admit.

Joshua must have sensed his foreboding, because he leaned forward, meeting Dean's gaze with a look of resolve. "This new information will get us to them quickly, before tomorrow evening."

"You mean before Beckett executes them." Knowledge was power, but Malachi's revelations were far from comforting. Dean would make Beckett Moreau regret every hour since Sam and Caleb's disappearance.

"We'll be there long before that takes place."

"I've been in this situation before." Dean couldn't help to think of Cold Oak, and the time at The Sinks when Caleb had drown on his watch. "It doesn't always work out the way we hope."

"I've known you to have more successes than failures."

"It only takes one time." If Dean didn't succeed in this mission, all would be lost. "The odds are against us."

"You, Sam and Caleb have never been ones to respect the odds, especially when it comes to your loyalty to and faith in one another. I used to believe that a huge weakness in Jim Murphy's plan. It was irritating, flagrant and careless, but over the years that trait has become somewhat inspiring."

"Right." Dean rolled his eyes at his Advisor's poor attempt at consolation. "Just as your backhanded compliments have become endearing."

"I emailed Mackland while you were resting."Joshua ignored the jab. "Ethan, Elijah and Griffin arrived. Riley and Bradley as well."

"Porter?" The fact the scientist was at the farm only weeks before didn't erase the unease his name conjured. Maybe it was the similarity in situations. After all, Griffin had gone against a Triad and almost succeeded in his mission to destroy not only Jim Murphy, but the Guardian's first choice for future Triad.

"It seems Griffin was in Texas visiting Elijah and Ethan. If you don't want him there I can call Silas and have him removed."

"No." Dean had made the choice to give Griffin his ring back after returning from Hell. He'd exchanged pleasantries with the good doctor at the ceremony, although Damien bristled at the man's audacity to show his face at the after party. Dean had to intervene to keep Damien from taking a swing at Porter. There was no love loss, but Griffin was a member of The Brotherhood. Protocol had to be followed, and honestly they could use all the help they could get if the plan Dean was formulating was to come to fruition. "Did you give Mac Beckett's last name?"

"I did but according to Mac's email, it seems Riley and Bradley had narrowed down the list. Apparently Beckett Moreau went missing a decade ago while on a business trip in New Orleans. He was CEO for a railroad conglomerate based out of Canada. His body was ever found, and the Moreau family has a standing offer of a substantial reward for information about his whereabouts."

"Meaning Beckett was most likely nabbed by a vamp. When he woke up, going back home or contacting relatives wasn't really an option."

"That would definitely be a likely scenario. Riley will fill us in on what he has when we arrive."

"I'm sure Kathleen's thrilled about Riley working with us." Dean empathized with the teen's desire to be a part of The Brotherhood, especially after the boy's father, Boone was murdered. He also understood Riley's mother's feelings about her son following in his father's footsteps to become a hunter. She didn't want to risk what little family she had left.

"It was good fortune on our part that he came home with Bradley from Boston for the winter break. Carolyn mentioned that Kathleen was taking a holiday in wine country with friends. Ellen's death hit very close to home."

Ellen helped Kathleen keep the Boondocks up and running after Boone's death. Ellen and Jo had made the bar a home base of sorts. "If I hadn't said it before, I appreciate Carolyn going to tell Kathleen about Ellen and Jo in person."

"Carolyn grew up in our world. The women of The Brotherhood have always been strong. She understands the unpleasant side of our business."

"You think she'll be so understanding when it's one of your kids who wants to be a part of this business?" Dean realized it seemed like a major shift in topics to Joshua, but to Dean the question held relevance.

"Our stop is next." Joshua acted as if he had not heard Dean's inquiry. He stood, gripping the rail.

"I know you haven't set a date." Dean braced himself as the train slowed, finally coming to a stop. He followed his Advisor out of the car. "But you do plan on having kids, right? Besides the two furry children you already share out of wedlock."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Joshua stepped around a man begging for change and started for the stairs that would lead them to the street above. "Shouldn't we be discussing your plans for Beckett? Time is of the essence."

"This concerns our plans." Dean didn't need reminding about their deadline. He had been turning ideas over in his head before his little unscheduled nap.

"Mine and Carolyn's decision to procreate holds repercussions for your strategy? That doesn't seem likely."

Dean pounded up the stairs waiting for the burst of cold December air. "I'm going to send Bradley and Riley into the field." It would be the first time as Guardian he would send young men into battle. He knew it was likely they may not come back. Jo and Ellen were constant reminders, even if they didn't bare a ring.

"They haven't been training long." Joshua hesitated briefly at the entrance to the street. Despite the late hour, elite Manhattan was still awake, meticulously dressed socialites returning from parties and shows. He waited until a group of people passed before stepping into the steady stream starting for the crosswalk.

"Malachi wasn't wrong about hands on learning having its advantages." Bradley and Riley were rookies, but eager and willing. They had both been helping with research for a while now. Both had trained with Silas on smaller gigs and spent time with Jessup over the past year.

"You'll be giving them their rings then?" Joshua crossed the street that would lead to Mac's building, The Beresford.

"I guess that depends on whether they make it back." Dean matched the other hunter's stride, stuffed his hands in his pocket, huddling against the night air. He wasn't exactly sure how to give a ring, having yet to give one that wasn't already in existence. He would figure it out as he went along, just like everything else.

Joshua stopped abruptly just beyond the entrance to Mackland's building. He looked up at the towers, and the distinctive illuminated finials, sighing as he cut his gaze to Dean, surprise registering in his blue eyes. "I'm not sure what you want me to say."

"You're The Advisor. Advise." Dean brushed past him, nodding to the doorman as he entered one of the three lavish lobbies the building had, all with marble and moldings. Kyle recognized them, giving a brief smile. Joshua might have looked like he belonged in the city's most elegant address, but Dean with his worn jeans and jacket did not. As a kid he'd been mesmerized by the places Mackland and Caleb lived, so unlike the motels and rare apartment he and his brother grew up in. It made him self-conscious later on, but as he grew older he mimicked Caleb's attitude of ambivalence and realized he could fit in like a chameleon.

"The Brotherhood is a legacy." Joshua caught up with him at the elevator, which was Dean's favorite part of the building, and not because he and his brother had once shared a ride in it with Jerry Seinfeld. The brass doors had a dragon crested shield with the motto _Fronta Nulla Fides_, which meant 'Place No Trust In Appearances'. To Dean it was ironic.

"One you're willingly going to pass down?" Dean stepped onto the elevator, impatiently pushing Mac's number when the brass doors closed too slowly for him. "Even if it means putting your son's life in jeopardy on a regular basis?"

"I can't honestly speak to that because I have no son. But my father had no issue with me becoming a hunter. In fact, he insisted."

"Ditto. But we're not our fathers."

Joshua glanced at him, quickly returning his gaze to the elevator doors. "Hypothetically speaking, if I had a son, and he _chose_ to be a hunter, then I would be honored if you believed him deserving a ring." Joshua did not look his way, his voice taking on a softer tone. "There's no one I would trust more to lead him into battle."

"Thanks." It didn't make Dean's decision to enlist Bradley and Riley any easier, but Dean appreciated that Joshua played along with his 'what if' game.

They left the elevator on Mac's floor, Joshua exiting first. "And just so you know, we did set a date. It's why I was in Washington."

Dean was the one to draw short now. He held his key to Mac's place just above the slide lock. "What happened to the long engagement?"

Joshua looked at him, and Dean didn't need for him to answer. Jo and Ellen had happened. Mac and Esme had happened. The Triad ceremony had worked a certain magic on them all. Then there was the fact that the world just might be ending.

Joshua fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket. "Carolyn has her heart set on a specific location-the place where her grandparents were married. They had an unexpected cancellation for the end of May. Things fell into place."

"I see." Dean grinned, rallying his spirits at the rare good news, and taking a momentary pleasure in Joshua's obvious discomfort at discussing personal issues. He unlocked the door, ushering the other hunter ahead of him. "I'll be sure to clear my calendar."

"Make sure that you do. Carolyn is already preparing a seating chart." Joshua slid out of his jacket. "And you will need to give The Knight time off for necessary fittings, and Sam's services will be required to write a speech for him because I do not wish to hear one of Caleb's prose recited at my reception."

"Damien scored best man?" Dean arched a brow. His best friend was convinced Adam would steal the title away from him. "What about your coven buddy?"

"It isn't like I actually have a choice in the matter." Joshua dropped his black bag on the antique bench in the foyer, unwinding the scarf from around his neck. "Mackland and mother made the decision for me with their surprise nuptials. Caleb would be the obvious candidate; Carolyn believes any other would be in poor form."

"So Carolyn is on Team Caleb?" Dean smirked.

"He's been wooing her from the beginning." Joshua smoothed a hand over his hair. "You know how ridiculous he can be around women."

"It would be easier if you'd just admit you like the guy."

"Please," Joshua scoffed.

"He is your brother, after all." Dean moved down the long corridor. He could hear voices coming from Mac's study. Silas was standing at his post outside the office.

"I would appreciate it if you stop referring to him in that regard." Joshua groaned. "The position of his brother is your cross to bear. I have no interest in taking it over."

"That's good because I'm not giving up the post, Dude." If Joshua noticed the unexpected terseness in Dean's voice he didn't let on. Dean chalked it up to exhaustion. He was lucky enough in this world to have two brothers he loved, one given to him and the other found. Joshua had never been that lucky. Caleb had a chance at the family he always wanted. Dean was pretty certain he wouldn't be able to offer Caleb all the benefits a brother could, like a sister-n-law to fuss over him and nephews to corrupt. "'I'm only willing to share because I can use the back up. Damien can be a handful and I've been pulling double duty for years with him and Sam. "

"You're not promoting your sell."

"That's why you're the PR guy." Dean stopped at the doorway to Mac's office, slapping a hand on Joshua's shoulder. "I'm counting on you to help me make my plan look if not brilliant, at least not completely suicidal."

"But I don't know your plan," Joshua stuttered as Dean set off with purpose towards the group of men.

"Roll with it."

"Rolling with it is not the way I do business." Joshua hissed.

"This will be good practice for our future ventures." Dean knew in the public relations world Joshua insisted on having all the pertinent facts before anyone else. He could spin them in a way so his client came out smelling like roses. His role of Advisor would not be so clear cut and staged.

Dean nodded to Silas and stepped into the room. All eyes zeroed in on him. Ethan and Eli were sitting on the leather sofa. Griffin Porter was in one of the wing back chairs near Mackland's desk. They all stood when Dean entered, even Mackland. Bobby turned his chair so he was facing him. Dean was aggravated by the formality. It was like the president had just stepped in for a press conference. He would have preferred to be at the farm, in The Tomb sitting at the round table where they all had equal attention like Jim used to do. "At ease," he said.

"About time you two made it back." Bobby returned to Mackland's desk, slipping back into more familiar form. "We've been doing all the grunt work while you took your stroll in Central Park."

"It's not like the party can start without us." Dean moved to the mechanic's side. He looked at Ethan, Eli and Porter. "What have you boys come up with?"

"Carolyn has emailed us latest satellite imagery of Traverse City." Mackland reclaimed the seat in front of his computer.

"I cross-referenced it with the data I gathered on Beckett Moreau," Riley quickly added. He and Bradley had set up their own station at the far end of Mackland's desk. The teen kept his eyes on Dean, but gestured to the small laptop in front of him. "Bradley used our new program to pinpoint the locations of possible heightened electromagnetic activity in the area. I mean, I know we're not looking for spirits, but in theory supernatural activity of any sort, even that of magical wards, will draw entities to the area like bugs to a porch light. We got a hit."

"Good work, Indy. Glad you and Bradley the Brain are on our side." Dean gave the college students a thumbs up, not really digesting what the teen was prattling on about, but impressed he'd managed it without taking a breath.

Bradley frowned at the nickname, but Riley emboldened by the praise whipped a piece of paper from Mac's printer and offered it to Dean. "I also printed out a copy of the topographical map of the estate where we now believe Moreau to be staying. Carolyn says you're a more concrete, tactile learner and you do better with visual processing."

Dean shot Joshua a look. "Really?"

Joshua didn't feign apology. "She's used to preparing briefs in their most functional format for agents in the field. It's a sincere effort on her part."

"Hey, Josh, could I get her to start sending my intel tucked in the centerfold of the latest Playboy?" Ethan yawned, stretching so his back popped loudly. "I'm all about visual processing, too."

"That would definitely be conducive to your style of learning," Eli slapped his brother in the gut.

"Carolyn also afforded us a list of available hunters in the area," Griffin spoke up, casting a look of reprimand to his two protégés. "If you would like, I could contact them and arrange a meeting place."

"How many are we looking at?" Dean hadn't even begun to familiarize himself with the other hunters that made up their ranks. In the future, if they had a future, he was going to have to take a page out of Carolyn's book to do his homework.

"At least ten in close proximity that are not involved in strategically important hunts," Griffin reported.

"Good news is Rufus is one of those able bodies." Bobby looked at Joshua. "Bad news is Slick Dick is with him."

"That going to be a problem?" Dean cut his gaze to his Advisor, catching the subtle change in the other hunter's posture. Joshua folded his hands in front of him, his stance no longer relaxed. His face never changed as he met Dean's questioning gaze.

"Harland is good with a long bow and a sword."

Dean nodded to Griffin. "You can bring them all in on the plan when we're done."

"What is the plan?" Mackland leaned back in his chair. "Joshua related our time frame. We need to act quickly."

"The plan is for our boys to attend tomorrow night's vampire lollapalooza as invited guests."

"You want us to infiltrate their forces?" Mackland leaned forward on his desk. "Why not strike during the day when the vampires are at their weakest?"

"The sun doesn't give us enough of an advantage with those kind of numbers, Mac. They may sleep in the day, but they sure as hell aren't defenseless in the daylight." Dean could tell the former Scholar was not pleased with the suggestion by the way the gray in Mac's eyes darkened ever so slightly.

"What kind of chance do we have of pulling off such a task as your suggesting?"

"With Lenore's help we have a good chance." Dean perched himself on the edge of the desk. "Remember the scene in _Robin Hood_ when the Sheriff's going to hang Will Scarlet and Little John's kid?"

"Right," Ethan snapped his fingers, easily latching onto the reference. "You're talking the remake with Kevin Costner. He sneaks his men in with the crowds who come to watch the show, putting them in the perfect position when the fireworks start."

"Robin Hood? Your battle plan is from a movie?" Mac questioned. "You're serious?"

"First off," Bobby started. "What makes you think Lenore's going to pony up to this plan? Didn't you cash in your chips with her for the information she coughed up?"

"She's searching for redemption."

"What are you talking about?" Mackland asked.

"It seems Lenore has a crush on Cas." Dean called the angel the moment they had finished with Malachi, filling him in on his part of the plan. "He paid her another little visit, had some tea, let her poodle sit on his lap and she's willing to go along with my request."

"And what exactly was your request?"

"That she reconsider Beckett Moreau's invitation and take her nest to the festivities. In exchange her nest is granted absolution and protection from The Brotherhood in the future."

"Is Castiel going to be coming here?" Riley whipped out his cell phone. "Because that would be absolutely awesome."

"Cut it out with the paparazzi act, Indy." Dean was glad to see the teen had reclaimed some of his zest since his father's murder, but it was making it more difficult to treat the kid as a perspective hunter. "Cas likes to keep a low profile."

"Sorry." Bradley reached up and snatched his friend's Blackberry. "He has a little bit of a thing for angels, too. He's amassed quite the collection of reports on Castiel."

"I appreciate Castiel's effort and your careful strategic details," Mac said. "But how exactly are you planning to have human hunters blend with a nest of vampires? They may look the same, but they will never pass muster under closer scrutiny."

"Mac's right," Bobby agreed. "We reek of gun oil, pizza, and good old human. They'll smell us before we get within a mile of the place."

"Here's where you come in, Mama's Boy." Dean elbowed Joshua.

Joshua opened his mouth, closed it. "What?"

Dean made a rolling gesture with his hands. "Tell them your part of the plan."

Joshua narrowed his gaze. "I'm sure there is a spell to block your typical hunter's stench."

"Sure, there is." Dean smirked at Bobby. "Magical deodorant. How hard could it be?"

"You're sure that's possible, Joshua?" Mackland said. "It seems like it would be a complicated spell."

"I'll consult with Adam. We can use the vampire's heightened senses against them." Joshua nodded to Dean.

"He can run whatever he comes up with by Castiel," Dean said. "He knows what a vampire _should_ smell like."

"And your objective, Dean?" Mackland's finger was poised pensively at the edge of his eyebrow. "For the infiltration?"

"Our main objective is to secure Sam and Caleb, to get them to safety." Dean lifted his chin, crossing his arms over his chest as he held Mac's gaze.

"And if that objective isn't viable?" Ethan asked. "Not that I'm not all for Plan A, but it's always good to know Plan B and C."

Dean didn't want to allow himself to think of the prospect of Caleb or Sam not making it out of this alive, but Ethan was right in the fact they needed to cover all bases. The recourse was stunningly clear to Dean. "Then we kill everyone."

"That isn't the way Jim would have handled the situation." Mackland slowly stood.

"No it isn't." Dean moved from the corner of the desk, drawing himself up to his full height. Mac had been gung-ho for Dean to take on the job of Guardian, but Dean wondered if the former Scholar had considered all the repercussions of that decision. Mackland was no longer in charge. Dean tilted his head to Griffin standing at the doctor's side. "Obviously I'm more vindictive than Jim Murphy."

_"__There are people in this world who go about demanding to be killed," Ethan gave his best Vito Corleone imitation__.____ It was obviously an attempt to break the tension, one Dean appreciated. _

___Dean looked at the detective. "There's always someone ready to oblige them."_

"This is not a game, boys. I understand you have your way of doing things, but if you kill Beckett, you run the risk of making him a martyr." Mackland exhaled heavily.

Dean recognizing the flash of disappointment as he swept his gaze to the former Scholar, then to Griffin.

"I believe that was one of Jim's concerns when he spared my life." Griffin didn't seem bothered by bringing up his own plot to thwart The Brotherhood. "Although grateful now, at the time I found it only a confirmation of my old friend's weakness. I believe Dean has the right idea."

"You are not a part of this discussion, Griffin," Mackland said.

"There is no discussion," Dean said. "When I kill Beckett it will give one message and one message only. No one touches The Brotherhood and comes away unscathed."

"So you'll rule by fear?" Mackland's voice rose in anger.

"He kidnapped two-thirds of my Triad." Dean slammed his fist down on the desk. Riley jumped. "He hurt them. If I let that go, next time it may be someone's mother, fiancé, or wife. Do you really want to set that precedent in these times, Mac?"

Mac didn't answer and Dean was once again aware of the eyes on him.

"How many vampires are you expecting there to be at this lynching, Kid?" Bobby broke the tense silence that had fallen over the room.

Dean ran a hand over his mouth. "A hundred. Maybe more."

"Holy crap," Riley said. "That's like twenty to thirty nests. That's historically unprecedented."

"It definitely poses a challenge," Eli added.

"With the ten hunters Griffin is counting, there are only fifteen of us," Ethan said. "No disrespect, Corleone, but those odds suck."

"Seventeen," Dean corrected. "I'm counting Riley and Bradley. That many men armed with the semi-automatic weapons and rounds of exploding dead man's blood shells ought to even things out."

"Really?" Riley's mouth fell open, his face lighting up like he was five and had just caught his first glimpse of Santa at the mall. "We get to go in the field?"

Bradley glanced to Mackland, then Dean. There was a similar, albeit much more restrained excitement, in his blue gaze. "With weapons?"

"I'm sure as hell not going to send you into battle unarmed."

"I'm not sure that is a good idea, Dean," Mackland said.

"No surprise there, Mac. It's not like you like my plan."

Bobby cleared his throat. "We got enough to deal with without a pissing contest between the current and former regimes."

"Where do you and I fit in with this plan?" Mackland took a seat but kept his eyes on Dean. "Joshua will not be able to cloak our faces. We're far too well known."

"Castiel will be getting me inside Beckett's mansion unseen."

"You expect me to sit this one out? Caleb and Samuel could be seriously injured."

"That's why I need you somewhere out of the action." Dean placed the map on the desk in front of Mac, pointing at what possibly was a ridge or bluff. "I want you on the perimeter with Bobby, Griffin, and Jim's old sniper's rifle."

"I can do a lot of damage from up high if I have help. Old school style." Bobby glanced at Mackland. "Especially if we utilize those special solar fluorescent grenades I was telling you about. Lenore will need to know when to get her people out of the way."

"We'll need a couple of more pints of dead man's blood and a stock of nails." Mackland sighed. "I'll send Silas to get the other weapons from the vault."

"And what about the witch assisting Beckett?" Joshua said. "It would be unwise to discount that influence."

"I'm counting on you to take care of your fellow crafter." Dean slapped his Advisor on the back. "You'll be traveling Cas Airways with me."

"And Beckett?" Ethan asked. "What are your orders concerning him?"

"I'm sure Riley has a picture of Moreau. Spread it among our men. I want him brought to me." Dean rubbed a finger over his ring. The strum of energy stemming from the band was now consistent as was the echo of dread ensnarled through his gut. "The vampires traveled a long way to see a public execution. I won't disappoint them."

Raj*SnsnsnsN*RcJ

Sam opened his eyes with an immediate grimace, the pain in his shoulder flaring to life as he tried to focus on keeping his lids open. He couldn't hold back a groan as he attempted to move.

"'bout time you woke up, Runt. This musical chairs version of bouts of unconsciousness is getting old."

Sam relaxed. A touch rested briefly on his hair, cold fingers moving to his neck where he recognized the motions of having his pulse checked. He licked his lips. "Caleb."

"Take it easy. I just got the bleeding stopped." Caleb kept his hand on Sam's chest.

"Where…"

"Back in the cellar." Caleb raised his hands so Sam could see them. The Knight's wrists were bound together with metal wire. "Bastards aren't taking any chances of us escaping this time."

"I liked the chef's room better." Caleb had him laying down with his feet propped up on a cement block.

"Tell me about it. No rats and a much bigger space." Caleb sighed. "It was definitely more tactically advantaged for a rescue. Deuce could be right on top of us and not even know it."

"Why is it when I wake up after you things seem much worse?" Sam squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the room would stop spinning.

"Your amazing Winchester luck." Sam blinked up at the hunter. Caleb had used the remains of his t-shirt and belt for a pressure bandage. He undid the buckle, lifting the folded material to check Sam's shoulder. "Good news is that being a Winchester means your shoulder may hurt like a bitch, but more than likely you'll live. It's my shitty luck that Liam didn't tag your bowling arm."

"Thanks for not making this about you." Sam bit the inside of his cheek, tried to focus on steadying his breathing.

"Deuce says I can make anything about me." Caleb replaced the bandage, lifting Sam up slightly to maneuver the belt into place again. "I'm not sure why that's a bad thing."

"Spoken like a true egomaniac." Sam stifled the groan the jostling elicited, but couldn't control the involuntary stinging of his eyes. He cleared his throat, wishing for the bottle of water they had before. His jeans and shirt still felt damp. He couldn't have been out of it too long.

Caleb patted his arm. "Takes one to know one, Kiddo."

"What time is it?"

"Early morning." Caleb looked towards the stairs. "But I wouldn't get my hopes up for Liam serving us breakfast as our last meal. I'm guessing after our botched escape they leave us here until tonight's big show."

"We screwed up." Sam shifted on the ground. He wondered how much energy it would take to sit up.

"It was a long shot at best. You gave us a chance, and you killed two of the bastards. That's at least something."

"Are you okay?" Sam decided it was worth the chance of being sick to get up off the cold ground and check on his friend. Caleb's voice was off. The glare of the bare bulb overhead cast him a sickly pallor Sam guessed wasn't just a trick of light. They were both in shock, in need of fluids and medical attention.

"I'm sorry as hell."

"That sounds about right." Sam gritted his teeth, taking deep breaths to quell the waves of nausea as he removed his feet from the block. He rolled to his uninjured side.

"Damnit, Sam." Caleb muttered. He reached out and helped Sam to sitting, not letting him go until he was propped against the wall. "Stubborn sonofabitch."

"This wasn't your fault." Sam ignored the grumblings for what it was, worry and frustration.

"I think I came up with that not-so brilliant plan that did nothing but land us in a worse situation. Chalk one up for sitting around twittering our thumbs." Caleb sat beside him.

Bits and pieces from their previous talk flashed through Sam's mind. "Inaction and passivity aren't the Knight's strengths."

"You can say that again." Caleb leaned his head back, keeping his gaze on the ceiling. "But I should know better than to run off halfcocked. I was scared."

Sam was caught off guard by the confession. "Of what?"

Caleb pulled his legs in, resting his arms on his knees. "Not being in control of the situation."

"You controlling?" Sam snorted. "Never."

"It's not funny." Caleb glanced at him again. "This entire situation has brought my shortcoming into painstaking focus. I fucking hate being helpless."

"I would have thought you would be used to it by now."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean your visions. You can't control them, you've never have been able to." Nervously Sam started to scrape the heel of his boot on the ground, making an indentation in the floor.

"Good point." Caleb rubbed his eyes. "Maybe that's why I need to control everything else."

"That sounds like something Mac would say."

"Dad has his moments." Caleb shifted his boot to tap Sam's.

Sam stopped grinding his heel. It would do no good anyway except exert energy he did not have. "He would probably tell you not to be so hard on yourself about this. That you were just trying to do what was best for your family. It's all any of us want. Right?"

"I didn't exactly do a bang up job by forcing you to break a promise to Dean."

He thought of all the promises he had broken over the years. It made him think how precious promises were, how difficult they were to keep, even the small ones. "You act like I wasn't even there." Sam felt a tremor of emotion.

Caleb snorted. "Trust me. You made your presence known."

"I could have said no." Sam didn't like the equivalent of a pat on the head. Caleb wasn't the only one who hated feeling out of control. It could have been a psychic trait, the human side combating. He admired the religious, how they could relinquish trust and control into a higher being. "I could have refused to go along with your plan."

"You could have, but I would have just kept pushing harder," Caleb replied.

It grated on Sam, The Knight's determination to take the blame for his actions. "I could have knocked you on your ass."

"Maybe _after_ you drank my blood." Caleb's regarded him with a narrow gaze. "How are you feeling by the way? Any side effects?"

"I made the choice to go along with your plan," Sam growled, ignoring the question. "You don't get to take that away from me."

"I'm not trying to take anything away from you." Caleb rolled his eyes. "I'm trying…"

"To protect me," Sam finished.

"You can get as pissy as you want, but protecting you is in the job description. I'm the oldest."

"That made sense when I was a little kid. I'm twenty-six!" Sam winced as his quaking exasperation had him tensing his shoulders. Adrenaline tapped his reserves; he had to take a breath to hold off the pain.

Caleb sighed. "Then call it The Knight's Prerogative. How are you feeling?"

"I have a headache, some stomach pain, but I don't have a burning desire to rip into your throat." All the symptoms were mild in comparison to when he had gone to Bobby's panic room before being released by Castiel. He did not know if that was a positive or negative sign that his body was adapting better to the blood, or if had something to do with Caleb being a direct link to Azazel.

"That's good to know." Caleb forced a grin. "Maybe my blood is an exception to the rule?"

Sam looked away, his eyes focusing on the stairs in the distance. "Did it even cross your mind that maybe I had my own reasons for agreeing to go along with your plan?"

"What reasons?"

"Like testing myself. I hoped whatever sinister, slithering thing that Azazel brought to life inside me died with Lilith and Ruby." Sam wanted to get up and pace but understood that wasn't a possibility. Again, it was having in his mind that he could not do something, and therefore wanted to do it even more.

"And?" Caleb regarded him without accusation.

"It's still there." Sam's eyes stung, but the reflex had nothing to do with his burning shoulder this time. "Just as strong as it ever was."

Caleb turned his body so he was facing Sam. "I hate to break it to you, but it's probably always going to be there."

Sam turned his head to look at his friend. "How do you live with that?"

"For starters, I try not to look at it as a sinister, slithering thing."

He hadn't thought about offending Caleb's abilities. "I'm sorry. I was being metaphorical and…"

"It's okay." Caleb held his gaze. "Everybody has darkness in them, Runt. Some of us just have potential to use that darkness in a more damning way. We have to keep a better check on it. I hoped that if you were successful in using it for something positive, you might begin to understand that."

"I know as The Scholar I have to use my abilities, but I need to do that on my own terms without you or Dean pushing me in either direction. I can't lose control again, not with Lucifer waiting to leap into my skin." "I wasn't trying to push you to use your abilities, I mean I was…but not for the sake of argument. I _was_ trying to save us."

"I know that, but I've got to learn to trust myself again, to have faith in my judgment. Proving myself to Dean or to you isn't going to do me one damn bit of good if I don't believe I deserve redemption. " Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could feel his strength waning, As much as he hated to abandon Caleb, the call of sleep promised a temporary haven. "I've got to save myself."

"Sitting on the sidelines really isn't one of The Knight's strengths," Caleb lowered his voice, moved his leg so it was against Sam's providing a little more warmth.

"I'm just asking you to hand off the ball more often." Sam forced his eyes open, turning his head so that he could see Caleb. "Not sit out the game."

"So now I'm a ball hog?" Caleb rolled his eyes. "Between you and Deuce my self-esteem is taking a beating."

"Only good can come from that." Sam forced a half smile. "Your ego could use some bruising."

"You can ease up because in case you missed it, Liam has gotten in enough good blows. First he's wearing my coat, then he uses my blade against you. My pride is taking a beating."

Sam tried to blink away the darkness encroaching on his peripheral. Caleb's voice was fading in and out. He swallowed roughly. "I don't think he's finished yet. He'll be the one kicking the chair out from under us at the gallows."

"Not if Dean gets to him first."

"Right. Dean will be here soon." Sam's declaration didn't ring with the confidence he'd hoped. He blamed it on the fact he had to focus all his energy on staying conscious. He felt Caleb move beside him, the older hunter's touch against his throat as he checked his pulse.

"Liam will regret messing with us when Deuce shows." Caleb's hand pressed against his forehead, cool and clammy. "You just have to hang in here with me, Runt. Do you understand? No checking out. I can't explain that to you brother."

"Right." Sam didn't doubt Liam would be sorry. He had to believe he and Caleb would be around to feel vindicated.

'_Dean will be here'. _Sam could find no energy to speak, but he repeated the silent mantra in his mind, knowing Caleb would hear him._ 'He'll come for us.' _The Knight would grasp onto their connection, keeping The Scholar anchored with him even as Sam drifted into the world of unknowing.

To be continued…

**Please note**: The official Brotherhood stories are found at The Hunters Tomb and are by Ridley C. James and Tidia. Other stories by other authors do not follow the same plot, character development and storyline continuity.


	7. Chapter 7

Vengeance is Mine

Beta: Tidia

RcJ

Dean had Castiel set them into the kitchen area of Beckett's estate. The plans Riley had secured showed several rooms off to the side, servant's accommodations away from the main living area. It seemed the most unlikely place for vampires to be considering they did most of their dining out.

"Clear on audio." Dean removed the white noise generators from his jacket, tossing one to Joshua and another to Castiel. Bobby had tuned them to a frequency the vampires would find irritating, like a dog whistle. It wouldn't draw attention, but it would keep them from focusing in on their voices.

"That was an interesting trip." Joshua glanced around their surroundings, getting his bearings from his first experience traveling Castiel style. He clipped on Bobby's gadget and pulled out the iPod Bradley had given him. "I understand your reference to Star Trek now."

"With all this high-tech crap we should get those little shoulder communicators, have Cas on constant standby. You could be Scotty." Dean glanced at the app Joshua had pulled up. Riley had scanned in the schematics of Beckett's mansion, creating a three dimensional graphic of the estate and surrounding area by tapping satellite imagery. Dean was shocked the enemy didn't show up as zombies, but tiny moving blips instead.

"Sam as Spock and Caleb as the good doctor Bones, I suppose." Joshua touched the screen, the image tightened, showing their locations. They were alone, but down the hallway there were two heat signatures. From there they spread out and grew in number and density.

"Too bad we just can't beam them the hell out of here." Dean watched as the monitor continued to register more and more bad guys. The vampires' temperatures weren't as high as humans, but they could be monitored. Riley and Bradley had programmed different colors for varying temperature degrees. Most of the dots were white, which signified something way below the human average 98.6. "Looks like your girl Stephanie wasn't completely wrong about the part where vampires are cold, Cas."

"Sam and Caleb should stand out more vividly." Joshua continued to scan the plans. "See. Here we are. Orange. Castiel is brighter. Locating their signatures should not be a problem, but I'm not picking up any other readings like ours."

"Blood."

Dean glanced up from the screen to Castiel. The angel knelt by the small twin bed.

"Keep looking." Dean moved away from Joshua, going to the angel's side. "Human?"

Castiel lifted a black and white photograph of a little boy from beneath the bed. Dean could see the crimson splatters mocking the kid's crooked smile. The angel brought the picture closer, his face screwing up. "More like demon."

"Caleb?" Dean clenched his fists.

"Yes." Castiel stood, discarding the picture on the bed. "I don't sense any other demons in the area."

"Caleb isn't a demon." Dean growled.

"You might be wrong about that," Joshua strode towards them.

"What?" Dean glared at his Advisor.

"Not about Caleb." Joshua held out the palm top. "Look at this."

"What the hell?" Dean lifted his gaze to Castiel. "This dot is red like your signature."

"What does that signify?" Castiel asked.

"It means that whoever or whatever that is has a temperature off the charts." Victims of possession ran high fevers for days after the demon was driven out. Depending on the level of the demon, or the length of the possession, there could be permanent damage done to organs like the brain. From the looks of Raphael's host after the angel's departure, and the way Lucifer's meat suit was melting, Dean guessed an angel's vessel was somewhat similar. "Looks like there is another angel or a demon in the mix."

"No other angels are here. As for a demon, I haven't sensed its presence." Castiel was certain . "I would have known as soon as we arrived."

"Perhaps it knows how to shield itself." Joshua looked at Dean. "Cloaking is a coveted and rare talent. One that Malachi Harris possesses."

"Malachi Harris?" Dean ran a hand through his hair. There was a sinking sensation building in the pit of his stomach, a vile thought crystallizing in his mind. From the look on Joshua's face they both coming to the same realization."You don't think…"

"Malachi is also a very talented witch," Joshua said, grimly.

"That slimy bastard tricked us? _He_ was Beckett's mysterious witch all along?" "

"It would explain why none of the covens could root out any betrayers in their ranks. Malachi hasn't belonged to one in over a century." Joshua returned his gaze to the screen. "But to what end? What could he possibly gain?"

"I have no idea, and we don't have time to stand around theorizing," Dean said. Demons had countless agendas. They could fill one page of a journal with what they did know of The Triad. Nothing would surprise him at this point. "We need to move."

"If we're right, this could work to our advantage." Joshua worked the iPod. "There are only two heat signatures in that room, one by all indications is a vampire.

"No low ranking vampire is going to be dealing with our mystery demon/witch." Dean looked at the screen. "It has to be Beckett."

"It would appear that way, and the room isn't guarded."

"Then we go talk to Beckett and find out who his demon associate really is." Taking out Moreau was secondary, but he would know where Sam and Caleb were being held. Dean felt time was ticking against them. He looked to Castiel. "Can you handle a vampire? I don't want to kill him until we have the information we need."

"Of course." Castiel nodded. "Should I take us there?"

"No. Let's do it the good old fashioned way." Dean was in a mood to kick in a door or two. After reaching their target unimpeded he got his chance. The lock gave way on the second try.

"Afternoon boys." Dean brought the Colt up, covering the area in case Riley's gadget missed something.

Malachi Harris was perched on the edge of a large desk. He didn't look surprised or concerned when the two hunters and Castiel crashed the party. If anything, he looked smug. The dark haired man with him was an entirely different story.

Beckett was on his feet in a blur, human face shifting to reveal the monster beneath. Castiel was as quick as promised. He lifted his hand in Beckett's direction and the vampire was flung against the wall, pinned against his fancy tapestry.

"Harris!? Do something!"

"It took you long enough." Malachi ignored the vampire's directive. He stood slowly, pulling at the cuffs of his suit jacket. "I was running out of reasons to stall the merriment. I was beginning to think I was going to have to blow my cover."

Dean leveled the Colt on Harris, casting Joshua a quick look over his shoulder. "Seal the door before backup bloodsuckers arrive."

Joshua rested his assault rifle against its chest strap. He dropped the leather bag from his shoulder on the floor, pulling a spray can from inside. The Advisor pushed the door closed, giving the paint a quick shake before using it to draw The Triad symbol on the panels.

Dean waited for him to repeat the now familiar verse in Gaelic. He wasn't sure of the exact translation-hadn't asked. It was enough to know the melodic words invoked The Lady of the Lake to protect her own in the name of Brotherhood.

Joshua handed him the flask and Dean splashed water over the wall, pressing his hand in the center. He willed the silver to come, felt it racing along the lines to trace their sacred symbol. When it was complete the whole room was bathed in a soft blue light. No one would be disturbing them.

"Well done," Malachi clapped. "You are a fast learner, and more powerful than I had hoped."

"What are _they_ doing here, Harris?" Beckett demanded. "You swore your wards were in place. That I was protected!"

"I've been taking acting classes, hoping to broaden my scope in the modeling field into commercial work." Malachi flashed his perfect white teeth at Beckett, straightening his bright red tie. "This role was excellent practice and you believed everything I said."

"You were in on this from the very beginning, Harris?" Dean was doubtful of anything the witch said. Demons had an angle; they had yet to discover Malachi's.

"You can thank me later when I explain everything."

"Thank you?" Dean clenched his jaw. "As soon as I find out where Caleb and Sam are, I'm going to kill you right along with this overgrown tick, no explanation needed."

"Why on earth would you kill me?" Malachi replied, coming off the desk to standing.

"Harris? You work for them?!" Beckett seethed.

"No."

"Yes."

Joshua and Malachi answered at the same time.

"Surely you understand the talent of a double agent?" The demon stepped closer to Dean. "Sun Tzu believed they were essential in successful war strategy."

"Where. Are. They." Dean ignored the fact Harris was spouting John Winchester logic, unwilling to waste precious time on the demon witch until his primary objective was met.

"In a secret vault beneath the wine cellar," Malachi answered. "Despite their ill-timed and poorly planned escape attempt, they are relatively unharmed."

"They're below ground," Joshua said. "That's why they didn't register on the radar."

Dean looked at the other hunter. "Radio Ethan. Tell him we've secured Beckett and to start the fireworks."

"You'll never defeat the army I've built," Beckett said.

"An army? You think that's what you've been doing? Recruiting an army?" Dean focused on the vampire. He looked like any number of Wall Street wannabes Dean waded through while fighting the sidewalks of New York. "You've been running a farce of a political campaign. It's pathetic you have no idea the two have absolutely nothing to do with each other. What you've got out there is nothing more than a sporting event. Bloodthirsty bastards who've come to see a show."

"They came…" Beckett stuttered. "They came for me."

"They came because you made them promises you couldn't keep!" Dean shook his head. "You led sheep to a massacre."

"It was the witch's plan to bring the other vampires here." Beckett struggled, but Castiel's abilities held strong.

"Of course it was. For all your plans of greatness, you aren't very bright, Beckett." Malachi turned to Dean. "It will be quite the feather in your cap, Guardian. Bringing the vampire parasites out of hiding, wiping their kind from existence. It's something generations of Triads have tried for, including my own. An excellent way to start your reign as well as a show of power at the beginning of the apocalypse."

"You were using me!" Beckett was just now figuring out how well he'd been played. "The hanging…all the talk of barbaric human justice."

"A hanging is barbaric, as most things circa my original era. However, the pomp and circumstance and time to build a proper gallows were preferable to your plan of taking out The Triad one at a time."

A sudden pounding on the door heralded reinforcements and interrupted any comment Dean might have returned.

"Beckett!" A deep booming voice called from the hallway. "We have a problem on the grounds! We're being attacked. Our security has been breached."

"Beckett? Are you alright?" Another voice followed an attempt to break through the door. "What's going on in there?"

"Brute strength is no match for The Triad," Malachi said. "But Scholar and Knight are still in jeopardy."

"Kill the prisoners!" Beckett shouted, driving home Malachi's point. "Do it now!"

Dean swung his gaze to Moreau. "You really shouldn't have done that."

"You were going to kill me anyway."

"Now you'll never know for sure." Dean lifted Samuel Colt's gun and put a bullet dead center of Beckett's eyebrows. The power of the gun echoed through him, electricity sizzling in the air as Beckett succumbed to its magic. It wasn't the show he wanted, but maybe they'd hang the social-climbing vampire's corpse from the gallows on their way out.

"Samuel's genius never fails to impress me." Malachi sighed. "On that note…"

Malachi was gone before Dean had a chance to aim the weapon at him.

"He knows how and when to make an exit," Joshua said.

"We'll worry about him later." Dean returned the Colt to its holster, looking to Castiel. The vampires speed and strength were what made them formidable adversaries. Beckett's order would be carried out swiftly, giving them little time for human inconveniences. The surge of energy in Dean's ring told him his fear was warranted. "Cas, we need to get down to that vault. Now."

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Caleb didn't quite understand what was happening. He had tried to stay awake after Sam passed out, keeping watch as pathetic as it was. He must have drifted off at some point because he was startled from sleep by the crash above them. Then Liam rolled down the stairs, landed in a crouch in front of the blocks, giving only a warning snarl before launching himself towards them.

Caleb managed a brief glance to Sam, who had started to stir at the commotion. He tried to get to his feet, to put himself in between Scholar and charging vampire. Caleb made it to his knees before the blur that was Liam barreled into him, taking them both to the wall with the bone crushing force that claimed The Knight's breath.

He wasn't given a chance to recover as Liam jerked him forward, sending a flurry of punches to his face and gut. Somewhere in the back of his sluggish mind, he wanted to remind Liam if he accidentally killed him it would ruin Beckett's macabre party. Sam's pained yelp had fury replacing concern for his own fate. It also halted Liam's frenzied assault. He let Caleb fall to the dirt floor. The Knight lifted his gaze, squinted through the red haze and black exploding stars to see Kate as she hauled Sam from the ground.

"Where are you going with him?" Liam snapped. "Beckett said to finish it now!"

"No!" Caleb gasped.

"Beckett's dead, you fool!" Kate snarled, hefting Sam over her shoulder. "I'm finishing things my way."

Caleb wanted to cheer the declaration of Moreau's demise, but knew it held no reprieve for them. Sam was in Kate's merciless clutches and he helplessly watched her disappear up the stairs. Caleb's body failed his command to get the fuck up off the floor.

"Arrrhhh! Women!" Liam roared. He picked Caleb up with one hand, taking his anger out on the weakened hunter. The vampire tossed him like a rag doll across the room. Caleb smashed into one of the mysterious wooden barrels, landing amongst its splintered remains like a floundering fish in a dark red puddle. Blood splattered the walls, splashed the ground, and washed over him.

The Knight lay there stunned, coated in gore. The sweet smell of copper was overwhelming, stirring the nausea in his gut. Caleb's fingers twitched trying to find some purchase in the soggy puddle, his will unable to rally any cooperation from his failing body. A vision of himself and Sam that night in Pittsburgh swam unbidden into his mind.

The night they destroyed the nest of vampires Caleb had been bathed in the enemy's blood-literally dripping with it when he and Sam had emerged from the warehouse. He had felt numb just like he did now; his pain of a different kind masked by the rush of adrenaline. Caleb had been trying to escape the unending ache of Dean's death. Now, as he gazed up at Liam, he knew he was facing his own. his death.

"Get it over with," he said.

Liam laughed, suddenly on his knees in the river of blood beside Caleb. He grinned, his fangs descending. "I always did like fondue."

Caleb closed his eyes, enduring the rough, clammy feel of Liam's tongue as it slid over his neck. The vampire was determined to add insult to injury. He waited for the shock of pain, the burning that would ignite through his veins as the monster drained him of his life blood. He sent out a silent prayer it would be quick, Dean would save Sam. It wasn't the blazing end he imagined, but at least he hadn't taken himself out of the game like his coward of a father.

"Damien!"

The sound of his name was echoed by a thud, and a light splash. More wetness splattered his face. Caleb blinked. For a brief moment he wondered if he was already dead. It took a second for Caleb to register Liam's decapitated head rested beside him in the red sea, the vampire's cobalt eyes mirroring The Knight's surprise.

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The vampire's body had fallen across Caleb when Dean had taken its head with a manic stroke of his father's broad sword. Dean hefted the corpse by the back of a leather jacket he instantly recognized as belonging to his best friend. He shoved the abomination aside with a disgusted growl, giving a vicious kick to the thing's head. It skittered across the room with all the buoyancy of a basketball.

"Oh God." Blood was everywhere. Caleb was covered in it. Dean dropped to The Knight's side, hands going to Caleb's neck, frantically searching for a pulse. "Damien? Come on, man. Please don't do this."

"I can't find where the blood is coming from." Joshua was on his knees, hands skimming over Caleb's head, and chest. "Where's the fucking wound?"

Dean winced at his Advisor's untypical profanity. No one could lose this much blood and live.

"It isn't his," Castiel said. He was standing behind Dean, hovering over them. "The blood is human."

"It's human?" Dean kept his hand on Caleb as he looked up at the angel. An irrational desire to punch Castiel battled with an equally disturbing one of wanting to hug the angel.

"Yes." Castiel inclined his head to Caleb. "His heart's beating, he's breathing. See for yourself."

Dean let out a watery laugh as his best friend's chest moved with breath. "Damn it, Damien, you scared the shit out of me."

"Sam." Caleb shifted with a groan. "Deuce…help him."

"Don't move." Joshua gripped Caleb's shoulder with one hand, the other disappearing into the bag at his side to reappear with wire cutters.

"Where's Sam, Damien?" Dean looked around. There was no sign of his brother. The brief moment of relief was snatched away by fear.

"Kate…she took him." Caleb's voice was weak and scratchy. He couldn't hold back the hiss of pain as Joshua removed the metal bands from his wrists.

"Kate?" Dean quickly stripped out of his jacket, covering Caleb with it as he exchanged another look with Joshua.

Caleb coughed, his face twisting with pain. "Daniel Elkins's Kate."

"Sonofabitch." It was the night for bizarre twists and surprises. Dean was wrong about nothing having the ability to surpise him, but then again Kate was likely to return sooner or later considering the circumstances surrounding their last meeting. Dean would just once liked to have been privy to the punch line.

"I take it that makes sense and he's not just delusional with pain?" Joshua asked, tossing the restraints to the side.

"It makes sense," Dean said. "I need to get to Sam."

"I'm sorry," Caleb said.

"Take it easy, Damien. We're going to get you out of here. Sam and I will be right behind you." Dean turned to Castiel. "Take him to Mac."

"Deuce?" Caleb's sticky fingers brushed against Dean's sleeve. "Kate…"

"Is a crazy revenge-bent bitch?" Dean clasped his friend's blood slicked hand, swallowing hard when Caleb returned his firm grip. "Don't worry, Damien. I know."

"Be careful…she's gunning for you." Caleb blinked struggling to stay with them.

"I'm Michael's vessel. The Guardian of The Brotherhood, not to mention being top of Hell's Most Wanted list. Who the fuck isn't gunning for me these days?" Dean gently placed Caleb's hand back on the ground, tucking his jacket around him. He squeezed the Knight's shoulder, giving a forced grin. "Tell me something I don't know, Man."

"Demon tastes like prime rib," Caleb muttered. He closed his eyes, losing the fight to remain conscious.

"Now he's delusional." Dean met Joshua's concerned gaze.

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The frigid night air roused Sam, but the gunfire elicited the adrenaline he needed to put up a fight. Kate was practically dragging him. She had his bound wrists in her steel-trap grip, keeping a brutal pace as she carried them forward, sticking close to the perimeter of the house. Sam tried to dig his heels in, but the snow gave him no traction.

The courtyard was lit by rows of wrought iron lanterns. Sam could make out the swarms of people, yelling, shouting. It reminded him of a Civil War battle reenactment Pastor Jim had once taken them to. There were no delineating uniforms, no booming cannons, but he caught the flash of swords. The sound of semi-automatics gave him hope. The Calvary had arrived in the form of hunters. "Dean."

"Dean isn't going to help you!" Kate yanked him, pain flaring from his shoulder and chest. The gray of unconsciousness framed his vision. The vampire was supporting most of his weight now, but still she moved faster, staying in the shadows of the eaves. "Just like he didn't help your pal, The Knight."

Thoughts of Caleb sparked more pain. Sam desperately reached for their shared telepathic link, darkness threatening to swallow him. He prayed the gaping void that responded was a side effect of blood loss and exhaustion. He didn't want to think about Liam and Caleb alone in the tiny, underground room.

"Where …are you taking me?"

"To the gallows." Kate's laugh was wrong, like the ones Sam had heard echoed in the halls of the mental institution when he and Dean had gone undercover.

"Give it…up." Sam stumbled along. He could barely hear his own voice, his tongue felt thick, like he was drugged. "Let me go."

Kate heard him over the melee. She growled, keeping up their momentum. "Not until it's finished."

"If you let me go now…you might have a chance." Sam wanted it to be finished. He was hurting, tired. The gunfire was constant now. It was a good thing they were out in the middle of nowhere. A battle would be hard to explain.

"Never say die. Isn't that what you hunters say?" Kate shook him.

Sam, without the advantage of vampire senses, barely heard her over the war taking place around them. An arrow struck the wall of the house missing Kate's head by only inches. She didn't seem concerned for her own fate or for that of her fellow kin.

"A good hunter realizes when he's on a suicide mission," Sam muttered, knowing the vampire would hear. His last hope was to rattle her, play on her weakness. "Dean's going to kill you with that Colt, just like Dad did Luther."

"Shut up!" Kate punched him in the head. Sam saw flashes of red, but Kate kept him on his feet. They made a sharp turn that took them away from the battle, into a clearing. In the center of the field, Sam could make out a wooden structure standing against the white landscape. It wasn't lit by modern lighting like the front of the mansion, but bathed in firelight from burning torches. His vision blurred, but through the haze Sam blinked the twin ropes into focus.

"Don't worry, Winchester. I'm sure it will be quick."

Sam stumbled up the stairs of the platform, Kate's resolve unwavering as she pushed him from behind.

"It won't be as dramatic as Luther's end, but dead is dead." She let go suddenly and Sam landed hard on his knees, falling the rest of the way to the rough hewn floor. "Your brother won't notice the difference. I'll wait for him to find you, then I'll finish him. Not with The Colt like I'd planned, but this will be poetic enough."

Sam managed to roll onto his back. Kate had Caleb's knife. He licked his lips, giving a slight shake of his head. "With that you have to get _close_ to my brother…you're not that good."

"I am that good." Kate crouched beside him, her free hand fisted in his shirt. "You hunters might have marked him as alpha dog, but he's still a mangy human."

"My money is on Dean." Sam managed a grin that had the color of Kate's irises disappearing behind a curtain of black.

She let out a menacing growl, her upper lip curling, fangs showing. "I could just tear your heart out and be done with it."

"That's not going to happen."

Dean's voice had them both looking up. Sam's brother was on the stairs, Joshua just a step behind him. The Colt was already in Dean's hand as he made it to the platform. He was fast, but Kate was faster. She stayed on her knees, twisting so that Sam's upper body was in front of her like a shield. She clamped an arm around Sam's throat.

"Stay back!" she warned. "I'll break his neck."

"Haven't we seen this exact scene played out before, Lady?" Dean briefly met Sam's gaze as he stepped closer to them. He raised his right arm, aiming the gun at Kate's head. "We both know it's not going to end well for you."

The laugh was back, quieter now, but just as insane. Sam shivered as Kate's lips brushed against his cheek; her words strangely cool in his ear. "I think this is close enough, Sam. Don't, you?"

"Dean!" Sam realized a moment too late what the bitch intended to do.

Kate's left arm tightened around Sam, but her right hand moved with all the fluidity and speed her animalistic genes allowed her. She flung The Dragon's Talon with deadly force and exact precision. It sliced through the air arcing towards Dean's chest, aimed right for his heart.

Sam waited for the impact, flinched when the distinct sound of steel entering flesh resounded around them with a cinematic-worthy dull thud. He felt Kate release him, her shout of outrage mixing with his own strangled cry of, "No!"

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Dean had been solely focused on the point between Kate's eyebrows, completely intent on putting a bullet in her brain. His father had made the same kind of shot with Luther, no hesitation, no commentary. Dean was not his father. Kate was not her mate. She surprised Dean. Damien was right to warn him, the bitch was gunning for him.

Hindsight wasn't worth a fuck.

The knife hurtling towards him was proof of that. There was no way Dean could risk a shot, all the variables having changed in a breath of a second. Dean was going to die. He only hoped Joshua put a wooden arrow in Kate's heart before she had a chance to regroup.

The force that slammed into him was surprising, stealing his breath as he landed on his back against the plank floor. A heavy weight spread from his chest, a leaden blanket over his entire body. Thick, black smoke curled around him, filling his vision before disappearing into the black night above him. He waited for the pain of the wrack, thinking he was surely on his way back to Hell, but no agony consumed him.

"What the…?"

"Dean!" Sam's voice had Dean refocusing, pulling in precious oxygen.

He was alive.

Dean opened his eyes blinked, understanding the pressure was a limp body on top of him. He recognized the blond hair, the vacant blue eyes. He shoved Malachi Harris's meat suit off, and rolled to his side. "Sammy."

"I'd advise you to not even think about moving a muscle."

Dean thought Joshua was talking to him, but realized his Advisor had Kate in his crosshairs. She was still staring at Malachi Harris with complete bafflement. The man had ruined her sweet moment of revenge.

Sam had managed to get away from her, crawling his way toward Dean. "You okay?"

The question was ridiculous coming from Sam, bruised and bloodied, looking as if he might fall over if Dean breathed on him too hard. "Thanks to quick demon reflexes, I'm good."

"Who…what was that?" Sam frowned in confusion, not recognizing Harris, having never had the pleasure. Dean assumed the demon inside had escaped considering the body he had been using didn't disintegrate like the others they had killed with the Knight's blade. Harris's sense of self-preservation and timing was proving impeccable. His motives however were still a mystery.

"Long story, Bro. I'll fill you in later." Dean made it to his knees, grasping Sam's shoulder. He eased his brother down to the ground. "Sit tight. I've got to finish some Guardian business and we'll get you the hell out of here."

"Caleb?"

"Is fine. Castiel took him to Mac." Dean still had his hand on the Colt. He aimed it at Kate as he stood. "Time for you to join your mate."

"Wait!"

Dean didn't look up from Kate at the sound of the female voice, but he did hesitate pulling the trigger. "Stay out of this, Lenore."

"There has been enough killing." Lenore stepped past Joshua, putting herself between the hunter and Kate. She faced Dean. "Self-defense is one thing, protecting your own another, but vengeance is a completely different thing. I imagined The Guardian of The Brotherhood would be above something so petty."

"You thought wrong." Dean's finger tightened on the trigger.

"Let us handle our own problems," Lenore tried. "You have your brothers back. This battle is over."

"It is not over until I say it is over." Lenore was asking him to go against every instinct. The enemy was in the palm of his hand and a part of Dean cheered for him to end them.

"Then say it." Lenore moved quickly, blocking Dean's shot. Her eyes were pleading as she moved toward him with an extended hand. It was the only distraction Kate needed. She was on her feet and running. Joshua's arrow thwacked into the wooden slats where she had been kneeling seconds before.

"Goddamn it, Lenore." Dean lowered the Colt. "This wasn't part of the deal."

"There's no need for swearing. We'll catch up to her. I promise." Lenore pointed to the radio at Dean's side. "End this, Dean. Please."

Dean lifted his head, the sounds of battle raging around him. He growled, taking the walkie-talkie. "Porter, Ethan, stand down. Order the men to fall back. I repeat, fall back."

Lenore nodded. "Thank you."

"I didn't do it for you." Dean put the radio away. He glanced at Sam, struggling to stay upright. "I have higher priorities than erasing your kind from the face of the planet."

"Beckett and Kate are the worst of us. You and I have proven that it is possible for vampire and hunter to come to an understanding. Beckett's plan was wrong, but vampires uniting might not be such a bad thing. If they were capable of allegiance..."

"Go back to your farm, Lenore. Stick to your fucking diet." Dean reached down to help Sam up. Joshua came over to help. "This was a onetime gig. I promised your family immunity. After tonight, all other vampires are fair game."

"Perhaps in time you'll feel differently..."

Dean tightened his grip around Sam's waist. His brother's head lolled forward, revealing the undeniable marks on Sam's neck. "I don't think so."

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To be continued…


	8. Chapter 8

**Vengeance is Mine**

**Epilogue**

**Beta: Tidia**

**A/N: A hundred plus pages later, and here we are at the end. Thanks to Tidia for all her excellent editing. She made this story much better than it would have been and any lingering mistakes were all mine. Thanks for reading, and to all those who took time to comment, an extra big heaping of appreciation. Up next week is Tidia's story, tentatively titled _Hard Sell_ the fourth in our five story arc. **

**RCJ**

_"Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family."-Anthony Brandt_

Dean opened the door, nodding to Silas and some of his security detail as he entered the motel room. To the untrained eye they looked as casual as a group of everyday guys, chatting up the latest hockey game. That's how they had explained all the rooms to the motel clerk, old army buddies on a road trip to see a Wolverines match.

Silas suggested the extra protection would be smart with so many vampires in the area and two-thirds of The Triad compromised. Dean didn't refuse the backup. It allowed him to take care of other things, like coordinating with the Geek Squad to get the mess at Beckett's mansion cleared away before the authorities were alerted. Dean had spoken with Carolyn, then turned the phone over to Joshua giving his Advisor some privacy. Ethan, Eli and Porter stayed to help the the other hunters on the rescue mission clean-up. Riley and Bradley drove Bobby to the motel. Dean had a chance to talk with the young hunters alone after everyone was settled.

It seemed fitting the first ring he created and gave as The Guardian would be to Boone's son, the other to someone with no previous ties to hunting. They had proven themselves worthy of The Brotherhood and would help carry the next generation of hunters into the uncertain future. Dean felt the fluttering of hope as he gave them their first official hunting orders, a moment of normalcy in a chaotic time.

Mac was coming out of the adjoining room as Dean made his way to the small kitchenette. He met the doctor's gaze. "Hey. How are they?"

"I would have liked to have seen them both checked out at the hospital." Mac stretched, his back popped. "But the blood and saline ringers Castiel provided us are helping. Their vitals are stronger; shock is no longer a threat."

"Think of all the medical supplies we could have scored over the years with an angel who can pop into any hospital, unnoticed, on our side. We wouldn't have needed to rely on your prescription pad so much." Dean would have caved on the hospital if it had been necessary to save Caleb and Sam's lives. But with Mac on hand Dean wanted to keep them all together in an area he could protect. The last twenty four hours had left him feeling out of control, he didn't think he would have done well with a bunch of doctors and nurses trying to take over the situation. If the farm had been an option, he would have chosen for them to go there.

"His talents have definitely come in handy." Mac rubbed the back of his neck. "He's keeping vigil with the boys."

Dean looked towards the other room. He'd not seen his brother or Caleb since getting back to the motel. Mac had given him a run down on the injuries ranging from fractured ribs, a broken collar bone to Sam's stab wound. The blood loss and the manner in which it occurred disturbed Dean the most. "They awake yet?"

"No. I'm keeping them sedated through the night." Mac moved to the coffee pot. "Hopefully, by morning, they'll be stabilized and their blood count back up. You should get some rest yourself."

"Sam's shoulder wound?" Dean was exhausted, but too wired to sleep. "You were worried about it."

"No signs of infection. There doesn't appear to be any tendon damage, but I'd like him to drop in for an MRI later to be sure. I'll arrange for it."

Dean grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge, wishing he'd thought to have Joshua pick up something stronger. Dean could always pay a visit to Bobby's room, two doors down. "I'm sure we can fit that in our flexible schedule."

"I know there are lots of things being thrown at you boys." Mac brought his coffee to the small table taking a seat. He surprised Dean by pulling a familiar silver flask from his over shirt pocket, adding a generous dash of its content to his mug. The flagon had been the one thing of John Winchester's that Mackland had asked to keep. "It's amazing you have been able to process it all."

"Meaning we should have stayed in that psych ward with old Martin." Dean took the other chair, uncapping his beer. He had witnessed his father and Mac end many a successful hunt with Irish coffees. "Don't think it didn't cross my mind."

"That's not what I meant, but I do wish there was a way for you boys to have a break." Mac took a drink of his coffee. "Maybe with Christmas coming up?"

Dean shrugged. "Maybe."

"Of course, I wish for a lot of things." Mac turned the flask over in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the metal before setting it on the table.

"If wishes were horses." Dean lifted his drink to Mac.

Mackland smiled wanly. "Your father used to say that to me when I was on my soap box pointing out something I viewed as unfair or unjust."

"I remember some of the arguments you two had." Dean knew despite the differences Mackland was his father's best friend.

"It took me a long time to realize Johnathan and I were both were seeking the same end result, only taking different paths to get there. It drove me crazy that he refused to feel as I did about certain things."

Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "I don't want to fight with you, Mac."

"I don't want to argue either. I want to apologize. I shouldn't have questioned your judgment in New York." Mac ran a finger over his eyebrow. "This whole situation has not been as easy as I had imagined. In theory, it appeared simple enough."

"You held the reigns all by yourself for a long time. It's hard to step down." Dean wondered if a Guardian had ever retired. It was something he'd have to have Riley research.

"I suppose I feel a little guilty for turning it all over to you boys at a time such as this."

"You said it yourself, Mac. The Brotherhood needed our Triad." Mac wasn't making the decision for himself. He was thinking of Dean, Caleb and Sam, what was best for their futures.

"Now, I'm certain I was right. I'm proud of you, Dean." Mac gave a small grin. "I'm sure Caleb would say what happened in New York was my control freak, know it all professor complex rearing its ugly head."

"Damien would say we still need you around. Your input is important to all of us, especially me." Dean had to find his own path as The Guardian, but that didn't mean he wanted to do it alone.

"I appreciate that, Son." Mac reached across and gave Dean's wrist a brief squeeze. "If The Guardian will excuse me, I need to call my lovely wife and then check in with Bobby. I'll come back and check on my patients before turning in."

"Thanks, Mac. Tell Esme I'll have you home in time for Christmas."

Mackland pulled his Blackberry from his pocket. "I hope you realize she plans for you boys and Bobby to join us for the holidays. I haven't seen so many Christmas decorations since the year you and Sam spent Christmas in New York as boys."

Dean smiled, unsure of what his immediate future plans might hold. Celebrating anything except the fact they had once again faced a life and death crisis and lived to tell about it seemed ludicrous. "She is a woman who gets what she wants."

"That she is," Mackland agreed. Joshua came in as the doctor turned to leave. Mac squeezed his stepson's shoulder. "I think there's enough coffee for one more cup."

"Thanks." Joshua nodded to the phone. "If you're going to talk to Mother, tell her I got her email and I'll call her later."

Dean watched Mac go, tipping his chair back until he was balanced against the wall. "The Geek Squad get things squared away?"

"I believe so." Joshua stopped at the counter then joined Dean at the table. "I take it that Mac's departure means things are going well with Caleb and Sam?"

"They're going to be okay."

"You don't sound relieved." Joshua sniffed his cup of coffee suspiciously.

"I'm still brooding about letting Kate go." Dean let all four chair legs return to the ground with a huff.

"For what it's worth, from a strictly PR standpoint, I think you did the right thing." Joshua took a sip, his grimace indication of what he thought of Mac's coffee making skills. "You killed Beckett, but allowed the vampires some say in handling their own. Perhaps Lenore will take on some sort of a leadership role."

"I'm not so sure that's a great idea either. Animal-feeder or not, I would rather have taken them all out." Dean pushed the flask Mac had left in Joshua's direction. "The bastards fed off Sam and Caleb."

Joshua took the cap off the liquor, adding two quick dashes to his drink. "They're alive. That's the most important thing."

"What's done is done?" Dean ran a hand through his hair. Revenge had never gotten him very far, but it wasn't in his nature to turn the other cheek, especially where family was concerned. Mac wasn't the only one with a complex. Dean's godfather instinct was in overdrive.

"Perhaps we should refocus on other business."

"What do you have in mind?" Dean had an idea of what his Advisor wanted to discuss, but wasn't sure he had the energy or the inclination to oblige. Malachi Harris was still at large. The demon had added yet another twist to the already knotted saga by saving Dean's life.

Silas's entrance interrupted Joshua's answer. "Dean, you have a visitor."

"Who?" Dean stood, his hand going to the Colt still strapped to his side. Nothing would have been a surprise at this point.

"I don't know him, but he has a ring. His passwords are a little dated, but correct. Raul and Baker are keeping an eye on him."

Dean and Joshua exchanged looks. "Malachi."

"Way to go, Josh." Dean growled. "_Think_ of the devil..."

Dean gestured to the room where Sam and Caleb were sleeping as he made his way around the small table. "Stay with them," he ordered Silas.

Joshua was on his heels as they exited the motel room. Silas's men had moved the unknown hunter away from the building into the shadows, out of sight of any passerby. Dean waved them off. "Give us a minute, boys."

The older of the two men nodded, moving back to the motel door. The 'Malachi' waiting for them was unfamiliar. The blond hair was a little longer, darker, and the eyes had gone from blue to hazel. The confident grin and haughty posture were easy to recognize.

The demon smiled at Joshua. "I'm glad you all made it away from the fray unharmed. It was a shame the same couldn't be said for my former body."

"Didn't take you long to pick up a new suit," Dean said.

"Nice isn't it?" Malachi lifted his arms, showing off his new body. "It's hard to believe I actually found an upgrade considering how hot I was before. The modeling industry is full of coked out wannabes. With this kid's face and abs and my talent, we could really go places."

"You can go right back to Hell and this kid can get back in rehab." Dean aimed the Colt at Harris. "Move. Around the corner of the building."

Malachi did as The Guardian asked taking them, away from other hunters on guard duty. "You're so quick to kill one of your own, especially after what I've done for you. Smart that you do it without Brotherhood members as witness. It wouldn't be good if it got out you showed no loyalty to your men or the code."

"You are not one of us," Joshua said.

"I am a former Advisor of The Triad."

"You were stripped of that title…"

"_Were_ being the important part." Malachi lifted his left hand, his silver ring flashing.

"That piece of jewelry means nothing," Joshua insisted.

"Thanks to you, it means everything." Malachi turned to Dean. "Or should I say thanks to The Guardian."

"What the fuck?" Dean took a step forward. The ring looked the same as it had before, deceivingly similar to theirs on first glance. But in New York it only took a second for Dean to realize the disturbing difference. Maybe it was a Guardian thing, but Malachi's ring, despite all outward appearances had felt dormant. It sure the hell wasn't emitting the same sensation it was currently.

"What?" Joshua demanded.

"That can't be." Malachi's ring now hummed with the energy that bound them all through Merlin's blood. "It's working again."

"What's working again?" Joshua was confused.

"My ring." Malachi waggled his fingers. "By Dean allowing me to work the spell with him, he granted me redemption, erased my previous record."

"That's why you needed to be part of the process," Joshua said. "You tricked me!"

"I had to work with The Guardian as an Advisor to restore my ring, yes." Malachi lifted his hand. "It wasn't anything personal, although the look on your face now is quite priceless. I am once again among your ranks."

"How is that possible?" Joshua looked at Dean as if the answer was part of the mystery Dean kept to himself. "Where did he even get a ring in the first place? He would have been stripped of it."

"Samuel Colt couldn't take his ring even as the last remaining member of his Triad." Dean was still in the dark about a great many things surrounding his position, but this he understood for certain. "Only a Guardian has that power."

"Samuel stripped me of my title, _cursed_ my ring using Triad magic **I had taught him,** I might add," Malachi said. "But you're right, only a Guardian can physically destroy a hunter's ring. Daniel Wilmington was not around to do the deed, and I had already met with my demise before a suitable successor was chosen."

"I'll make sure to remedy that." Dean pulled back the Colt's hammer, pissed he had fallen for such a set up. They had been so sure they were springing a trap for Malachi, but instead were caught in their own snare.

"I've done nothing to warrant such action." Malachi shrugged. "In fact, I sacrificed myself to save The Guardian's life. Your Triad owes me. The powers that be won't allow you to act upon selfish or vengeful feelings without just cause."

"You're a demon!" Joshua snapped. "That's warrant enough."

"Merlin himself was part demon. Your Knight shares the same heritage, and your Scholar isn't exactly as pure as the driven snow," Malachi countered. "Shit happens. Don't be such a prude, Josh."

"You've plotted against The Triad." Joshua pointed to Harris. "You were in league with the enemy. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't plot all of this from the beginning, knowing we would have to call upon you for help. Surely, Dean can take your ring for such heresy."

"I'm flattered you think me so cunning." Malachi lifted his hand, touching the silver on his finger. "But I wasn't the first witch Beckett approached. He came up with that ridiculous plan of taking on The Brotherhood on his own and was determined to follow through with it. I could have ignored the whisperings of my contacts within the covens, but when I learned that a vampire with nefarious intent was searching for a witch to do his bidding, to help him bring The Brotherhood to its knees, I chose to act in the Triad's best interest. I knew the only way to thwart his plan was to infiltrate. He had to trust me."

"How convenient that such information would fall into your lap," Dean said.

"Good fortune on all our parts." Malachi looked at Joshua. "Your lovely Leah was not as bold as I. She didn't even bother telling you of the rumblings until you questioned her."

"You'd have me believe Leah knew of Beckett?"

"A pretty face can hide all sorts of horrors." Malachi gestured to his new features. "True?"

"So, you want us to buy that you're the hero?" Dean stepped closer to Malachi when it looked like Joshua might lose his usual calm and reach out to strangle the demon. "You had our best interest in heart when you helped this creature kidnap Sam and Caleb?"

"If I had brought you the information about his plan beforehand would you have trusted me and acted on it?"

Dean hesitated. He would have never talked to Malachi unless he had been desperate. Just because the demon had a point, didn't mean his motives were as altruistic as he would have them believe. "Joshua's right. You saw this as an opening to worm your way back into The Brotherhood."

"I didn't say I wasn't an opportunist." Malachi brought a hand to his chest. "I saw a way to right a wrong I did in the past. I took it. Saving your life was never on the agenda, although it was icing on the cake. I mean how ironic. I lose everything because of my alleged crime of destroying a former Guardian only to offer up my own life to save you. It's only suiting that everything be restored to me. Such is the way of kismet."

"You're chalking this up to karma? You tricked me into releasing you." Dean doubted Jim Murphy had ever made such an asinine move in his entire twenty plus years as Guardian. "A magic loophole doesn't restore your honor, Harris!"

"Then give me a chance to earn it the old fashioned way," Malachi said. "You may have temporarily saved your Triad, but you still have the same issue as before. Lucifer is determined to have Sam, and don't think he will give Caleb the choice of sides. Then there is Michael. The Apocalypse. It should be obvious to you now that I know what I'm doing; I have not exaggerated my talents."

"All the more reason for us to be wary of you," Joshua said. "You can't be trusted."

"How do you plan to serve your Triad successfully if you are not trained properly?" Malachi turned his gaze on Joshua. "This isn't Jim Murphy's hodgepodge crew we're speaking of. Missouri Mosley's mediocre crafting will not suffice. This is a traditional Triad, as powerful as I have seen. Believe me when I say I like you Joshua, and I believe you have promise far beyond what anyone has given you credit for thus far, but in this case your best isn't good enough."

"I've made it this far without your grand tutelage," Joshua said.

"In six week's time you've lost The Knight and The Scholar."

"Thanks in part to you," Joshua said.

"If not for intervention on my part, they would have been murdered," Malachi pointed out. "And should I note that you've risked your Guardian and allowed me to make quite the mockery of you, and your pitiful position."

"Shut up," Dean said. "That's enough of your talking."

"Guardian, you can't possibly deny the situation you are in."

"Where are you going with all this? You've got your ring. What else are you proposing?" Dean kept the gun trained on Malachi, but relaxed his finger on the trigger.

"Dean, you can't honestly…" Joshua started.

"You said it yourself, Josh. He may be our only shot at figuring out this Triad stuff in time to do any good. Let's hear him out." Dean needed a way to win this war without saying yes to Michael, without jeopardizing his brother. He needed to be The Guardian Jim hoped he would, and save the world in the process.

"I can offer a gift of good faith," Malachi said. "Once you see it, I think you'll be convinced I'm the man for the job."

"I'm a little wary of your idea of a good gift considering the whole vampire-palooza thing."

"I'll think you'll appreciate this one, or at least your Advisor shall." Malachi slowly used one hand to lift the right flap of his coat, withdrawing a worn leather book. "May I present the journal of one of the most brilliant minds in history."

"Let me guess," Joshua said, "It's yours."

"Again, you flatter me." Malachi held the journal out to Joshua. "But alas, Samuel burned mine after I cursed the Wilmington ranch. We had quite the row after Knight and Guardian perished. Good thing I had the foresight to hide my more prized possessions. This book belonged to my grandmother. She taught me everything I know."

"What language is that?" Dean glanced over at the coffee-colored pages Joshua was thumbing through, the small, sweeping script unfamiliar.

"It's Italian, at least part of it is." Joshua continued to read, slowly shaking his head. "And not possibly real."

"It is real, my friend," Malachi assured. "It is the original _Vangelo_, the gospel. Now you see why I was chosen for Daniel Wilmington's Triad."

Joshua lifted his gaze from the journal. "Maddalena Talenti was your grandmother?"

"It was Maddalena _Taluti_, actually," Malachi brushed a hand over his coat lapel. "Scholars have mangled translations over the years."

"Who the hell is Maddalena Tuti?" Dean demanded.

"Taluti," Malachi corrected.

Joshua turned to The Guardian. "She was a Sicilian witch, purportedly Charles Leland's infamous informant."

Dean made a rolling motion. Joshua's attempt at insight didn't help him one damn bit. "And Leland is?"

"An author, folklorist," Joshua explained. "Imagine Salman Rushdie of the 1800's. He wrote a book entitled _Aradia, The Gospel of the Witches_."

Dean pointed at the book. "That an original copy."

"That is much more," Malachi said. "It is the ancient text my grandmother translated for Leland. It has been in our family for centuries."

"So your grandmother sold a tabloid tale of your family skeletons?" Dean was beginning to like Malachi's previous attempt at a gift more and more. At least he understood the value in ridding the world of vampires.

"My grandmother was not a traitor to her people. She gave away only what she wanted that twit Leland to know, enough to evoke interest by others and garner her safe passage so she could spread her family's teachings."

"What's he going on about?" Dean looked to Joshua. "Why the hell is it important to us?"

"Leland's text supposedly revealed the beliefs and rituals of a secretive religious tradition in Tuscany."

"Witchcraft! It's about witchcraft." Malachi sighed dramatically. "The Vangelo is our bible."

Dean looked from Harris to Joshua. "It's important?"

"Leland's manuscript is touted as one of the founding texts of modern magic, still in mass circulation today." Joshua looked from the book in his hand to Dean. "The story goes that Leland repaid the old witch's confidences by secretly bringing her and her family to America."

"Where Maddalena founded the very coven Joshua belongs to." Malachi clapped his hands. "Talk about fate. Isn't it wonderful how history comes full circle?"

"Maddalena started your coven?" Dean raised a brow. He didn't like witches, but it seemed his destiny was determined to be entwined with their kind.

"And many others. If the stories are to be believed."

"The Vangelo is proof enough." Malachi gestured to the book. "That is no sloppy translation by a novice writer. It contains the spell work and crafting of generations of witches. You understand what I'm offering. "

"Is there Triad magic in there?" Dean asked.

"All magic can be Triad magic," Malachi said. "You hold the power inside you, Guardian. It is knowledge that your Triad lacks. Knowledge I'm willing to provide. I took many spells from within those pages and made them work for Daniel Wilmington. He was not as prejudiced as you."

"If this book is what I think it is, it's invaluable." Joshua glanced at Dean. "Like Einstein's personal handwritten notes, the Wright brothers' original flight designs. It's akin to finding Merlin's journal."

Dean looked to Malachi. "Then I guess we should thank him."

"You will need me to translate." Malachi folded his arms over his chest. "I'm not stupid. I came here with bargaining insurance. That isn't a Dummies Guide to Crafting."

"Joshua knows Italian," Dean said. "He's put in his 10,000 plus hours of apprenticeship."

"He may struggle through the language, he might even decipher the codes many of the more powerful spells are written in, but he does not have the skill set to complete the assignments." Malachi gestured to Joshua. "You can give a talented child Michelangelo's sketch pad and original paint brush, but that doesn't mean he'll produce the Sistine Chapel. He needs a master's guidance."

"You think you're the one for the job?"

"I have an excellent resume-undeniable work ethic." Malachi grinned. "If not for that teeny blemish with my former Triad, it would be impeccable."

"That blemish, as you call it, cost two men their lives," Joshua said. He offered the book back to Malachi. "No _gift _can erase that."

"It must be grand to be so perfect." Malachi did not take the book, instead looking to Dean.

Dean lowered the Colt. He glanced at Joshua, then to Harris. "I believe we have your card."

"It needs to be updated, but I believe you do." Malachi laughed. "I promise you won't be disappointed with my work."

"You better hope so, Harris. If you don't produce what we want in the timeframe that we have, firing you will entail all the skills I have on _my_ resume, including the ones I learned from my master apprenticeship with Alastair." Dean's icy gaze did not leave Malachi's. "Understood?"

"Perfectly, Boss." Malachi nodded to the journal, winking at Joshua. "I'll expect you to have read chapters 1 and 2 before our first meeting, J. Don't make me punish you."

"I'm in apprenticeship to a demon?" Joshua turned to Dean when the demon disappeared. "Really? What happened to not wanting to compromise my virtue?"

"I saw the look on your face when you realized what that book was." Dean moved towards the motel, keeping his voice low as the other hunters came into view. "I said yes to save you from yourself. He would have had to pry it from your fingers, and you're the one who said it was invaluable."

Joshua glanced down to the journal now cradled against his chest. "Grandmother will never believe it."

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "I get that this book is a big deal in your crafting heritage, but the less people who know about this, the better. You need a person you can trust, someone who knows their magic. Not family and not Leah." Dean didn't want to leave Joshua vulnerable. He, Caleb and Sam were not going to be much help in the crafting side of things, but he wasn't willing to trust the coven, ally or not.

"Adam," Joshua replied. "He's honorable and a knowledgeable witch."

Dean nodded. "He seems like the best choice."

Joshua slowed his gait. "We could be making a terrible mistake."

"Welcome to my world." Dean rolled his eyes. "Besides, you should have thought of that before you convinced me of your brilliant plan."

"I am not the one to blame for Malachi Harris," Joshua was quick to point out. "Caleb conjured him in the first place. This is inevitably all his fault."

"Nice. Blame your little brother." Dean smirked at Joshua. "You are getting the hang of this older sibling gig."

"That is one job I will leave completely up to you."

Dean shook his head. "Coward."

RcJ*SnsnsnsN*RcJ

Captain One Helluva Big Brother was not a job Dean relished at the moment. He had waited for Mac to make his final round of the night, before claiming a chair in Caleb and Sam's room to stand watch. Bedside vigils sucked. He'd relieved Castiel to do whatever the angel did when he wasn't with them. Dean had stopped asking about his friend's quest to find God.

He was tired, tempted to take the pillow and extra blanket Mac had left for him to make a pallet in the floor between the two occupied beds as the first light of dawn was brightening the room. The night's events weighed heavily on his mind, his tentative truce with Malachi Harris and the vampires taking a backseat to the desire to talk with Sam and Caleb.

Watching his brother sleep was far too similar to the time after Cold Oak when Dean had kept sentry with Sam's corpse. He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. Dean took a deep breath, wishing for Marla's magic fingers to relieve the knots of tension he could feel in his neck and shoulders.

"Dean?"

Sam's voice had him jerking upright, searching out his brother's face. Sam's eyes were glassy and unfocused, but open. "About time somebody relieved me on watch."

"What happened?" Sam licked his lips, lifting his head to look from the I.V. in his right hand to the straps securing his left arm to his chest. "Where…"

"Take it easy. You're safe." Dean scooted his chair closer. "We're at a motel outside Traverse City, Michigan. Mac set up a makeshift ER so we wouldn't have to deal with demanding hospital staff."

"Caleb?"

"Mac pulled out the good drugs." Dean looked over his shoulder to the other bed. Caleb's face was turned towards them in sleep; a landscape of dark reds and purples from Liam's beating. Dean wished he hadn't been forced to kill the red haired vampire so quickly. "Prince Not So Charming is going to be okay, but he's still out of it. Though I got to say, you both are sporting some spectacular hickies."

Sam rested against the pillows, his free hand moving to the bandages on his neck. "The vampires?"

"Most of them went on their merry way. The big red headed freak and Beckett are dead. I killed them myself."

"Good." Sam closed his eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. When he looked at Dean again, he seemed more coherent. "I don't remember much after Kate tried to kill you."

"That's because you fainted, just like the girly bitch you are." Dean offered a half-smile.

"I was stabbed." Sam attempted a glare.

Dean was relieved to see a hint of petulance in the dark, stormy gaze. It pushed away some of his concern. If Sammy was feeling up to being his typical broody self, then he would make a quick recovery. He pointed to his brother's injured arm. "You and Damien may be sporting matching slings, but I should be the one set for an MRI after I hauled your heavy ass out of Beckett's compound in Timbuktu."

"I think you should cut us some slack." Sam shifted on the bed. "You have no idea what we went through."

Dean moved to prop pillows behind his brother, helping him to sit up. "I think I have some idea, Bro. The whole Triad in trouble alert system works really well."

Sam glanced down at his ring, his face softening with regret. "We were afraid that would happen."

"I would have gotten there sooner if I could have." Dean took a seat on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry."

"You were there when it counted," Sam said. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"Maybe." Dean's head understood the facts, but his heart was a different story. Being The Guardian was only proving to make him feel more responsible, not only for Sam and Caleb, but the billions of innocents they were sworn to protect.

"We tried to make it out of there on our own." Sam picked at a thread on the navy blue sling.

"So I hear." Dean turned to look at his brother, remembering Malachi mentioning a botched escape plan when they were in Beckett's office. "Two hunters against fifty or so vampires- sounds like fair odds."

"We had some help." Sam glanced up at Dean. "You're not going to like it."

Dean watched Sam catch his bottom lip with his teeth and was reminded of the few times when his younger brother came home with notes from school- a rare unfinished assignment, a fight with the occasional schoolyard bully. "It can't be that bad. I'm all for unconventional plans."

"I used my abilities."

Something inside of Dean twisted, feeling like a steel toed boot to the gut. "Which abilities?"

To give Sam credit, he didn't blink an eye. "I used demon blood."

"Goddamnit, Sammy." Dean ran a hand over his mouth.

"I ordered him to."

Dean turned towards Caleb's bed, thankful his best friend was awake, but not pleased with the revelation. "What the fuck, Man?" It was not turning out to be the reunion he had planned.

"It was my choice," Sam said.

The determination in his brother's voice reclaimed his attention. "Where the hell did you get the jolly juice?"

Sam's fierceness faded beneath a mask of contrition as he glanced toward Caleb, who was struggling to sit up.

"Shit." Dean's stomach gave another lurch. He cradled his head in his hands.

"At the time, it seemed like the only way," Sam said, gently.

Dean laughed a harsh grating laugh that had nothing to do with humor. "Like I haven't heard that before."

"Deuce…"

"Don't." Dean raised his head to glare at his best friend. "I'm sick of apologies."

"I wasn't going to apologize." Caleb had made it to a semi-upright position, his left arm cradling his ribs.

Dean narrowed his gaze. "Good to know."

"I was doing my job. You understand that."

"I understand it alright." Dean knew all too well what duty called them to do.

"Why aren't you yelling at us?" Sam asked.

"Besides the fact you both look like you've just come out the major losers of a UFC cage match?" Dean rubbed his eyes. "Maybe I'm hoping you'll cut me some slack when you find out what I did when I was against the ropes."

"What could be worse than me drinking demon blood? I broke my promise to you."

"I broke a promise, too." Dean looked from his brother to Caleb. They had all agreed to no more dealings with the dark side, but Dean was also referring to the oath they took as The Triad. He was pretty damn sure releasing Malachi Harris from his cursed existence was a stunning folly that could hold repercussions for all of them.

"What did you do?" Caleb's voice was hoarse and full of dread. Dean had no doubt his friend would have attempted to read him if he hadn't had pain meds coursing through his system.

"I let Malachi Harris perform a Triad spell with me to find where Beckett was holding you two. In doing so, I pretty much gave him the equivalent of a Governor's pardon for all his past deeds and re-established him as a ring-bearing member of The Brotherhood. And if that isn't enough of a kick in the pants for you, I pretty much brought him on board as Josh's mentor so he can teach us how to use more Triad magic."

"What the hell were you thinking, Deuce?"

"I don't know, Damien. I guess I was thinking the same thing you were thinking when you used your dear old great, great grand pappy's necklace to release Malachi Harris from the bowels of Hell in the first place." Dean only felt slightly guilty for using Joshua's point. "I was trying to save my brothers' lives. It wasn't exactly my most rational moment."

"So now that we're safe, you just change your mind," Sam said. "Take his ring back. You can do that, right?"

"I can't take a ring without just cause." Dean was certain Malachi was not lying about that. The Guardian's power was not completely left to his discretion for good reason. "He helped me save your lives. He saved _my_ life."

"He's a demon!" Caleb snarled.

"Do you really want to argue that case, Dude?" It was below the belt, but Dean was beyond pulling punches.

"Merlin was half demon," Sam tried for a save. "I suppose he set the standard, but that doesn't mean we have to work with Harris. It's not a good idea, Dean. If I've learned anything from my royal screw up with Ruby it's that no demon can ever be trusted."

"I don't trust Harris, Sammy. But the bastard's proven how sneaky he is. I'd rather have him in our camp where I can keep an eye on him and at the moment if you haven't noticed, he's the only lead we've got on this great, elusive power of The Triad. It's the bottom of the ninth, and we're down by at least three. We're going with my plan-that's final."

"We don't get a say, Coach?" Caleb asked.

Dean looked at him. "Sometimes we have to make hard choices in the heat of the game."

"Meaning you're pissed at me for pushing Sam to use his abilities?"

"Meaning everything is not about you, Damien! The Commander and Chief doesn't have to discuss his fucking orders with his Generals." As The Triad they functioned as a unit, but it was not a democracy, nor was it ever set up to be that way.

"Good to know, _Sir_." Caleb said.

"Fuck you, man."

"Guys, come on," Sam said.

Dean took a deep breath, exhaling heavily as he ran his hands through his hair. The last thing he wanted to do was argue with Sam and Caleb. Things were spiraling and he was beginning to understand why Jim needed the church and his garden as outlets. After the apocalypse Dean would have to find some of that elusive balance Mackland was always going on about.

"Did anything else life changing happen to take place while we were out of the loop?"

Dean looked at Caleb, surprised at the white flag. Damien usually pouted longer, licking his wounds for at least a few days before coming around. Dean would have deserved it this time, but he wasn't too proud to take the peace offering. "I gave my first official ring. Two of them, actually. "

"To who?" Sam asked. Dean glanced at his brother, glad for once Sam wasn't going to insist on arguing his point. Usually Sam didn't give in until he came out the victor, or at the least everyone was banged and bloodied for his effort. Maybe they were all changing, or maybe it was the pain meds and blood loss. Sam didn't have the energy to spare. Dean didn't care. He deserved a break.

"Riley and Bradley." Dean looked between Scholar and Knight, knowing they would appreciate the irony as much as he did. He had used a bottle of Johnny Walker Red he had stashed under the front seat of the Impala. Dean was pretty sure Pastor Jim never thought to use such unholy water to call the silver.

"What was it like?"

Dean met his brother's genuinely curious gaze unsure of how to capture his feelings without sounding like a complete girl. "Like pulling a white rabbit from a magician's hat."

Sam smiled. "Cool."

It was cool. "There was bound to be some pluses to this whole Guardian gig."

"Did Indy piss his pants?"

"Nearly." Dean would never forget the look on Riley's face. It almost made up for seeing the kid ravaged by grief at Boone's funeral. "Kathleen might put a bounty on my head, but it was priceless."

"It will be good to have more men in the field. We've been spread so thin, I've had men hunting solo. "

"Especially since you'll be recouping at the farm," Dean replied, shifting on the bed.

"What? No way." Caleb tried to sit up straighter. "Dean, I'm fine. There's too much to do as it is. People are dying."

"People are always dying." Dean wasn't the only one who was in need of some balance. Mac was right about them needing a break, if only a short one. "You're out of the hunt at least through Christmas, man. Maybe New Years. Sam will be joining you. That's an order."

"You're still pissed at us," Sam accused, as if a vacation from hunting was somehow a punishment.

"He has to forgive us sometime." Caleb waited for Dean to look at him. "Or maybe he'll just take our rings."

There was the infamous pouting. "As tempting as that is, Damien, we already covered the whole vengeful Guardian clause." Dean crossed his arms over his chest, studying his Triad. "Besides, as much as I like Ethan and Elijah, Pastor Jim chose you two chuckleheads as Knight and Scholar. I really don't think I have the right to mess with his master plan. It would be really embarrassing for us to go down as the shortest running Triad in Brotherhood history."

"Ah, look Sammy, its Deuce speak for 'I just love you guys so damn much'."

"You want to translate this, smartass?" Dean flipped his best friend the bird.

"Haven't you hurt me enough, man?"

"I think your ego can take it, big guy."

"What about the bear spirit job we were on in Chicago?" Sam spoke up, sounding all of ten. "Remember Tom and Jerry?"

Dean remembered them alright. He had never been so glad to hand off a job. "I made the marauding ghost grizzlies Riley and Bradley's first official hunt."

Sam frowned. "You didn't."

"What? They were as giddy as a couple of ugly virgins on prom night."

Caleb leaned back against his pillows. "This Guardian thing _has so_ gone to your head."

"You're the one who was always pushing for us to be The Triad, rallying for Dean to be The Guardian," Sam said. "You're a victim of your own success."

"Shut up, Runt. No one asked you."

"That's not surprising," Sam harrumphed. "No one ever asks me anything."

"Are we on that again? Really?"

Dean whistled loudly, bringing an abrupt halt to the heated argument brewing around him. "Maybe I should wake Mac so he can come play overly thorough doctor?"

Silence. He smiled. "It really is good to have you guys back."

Pastor Jim used to say that any hunt that ended with a full hearth was a successful one. Dean figured that pretty much applied to a man's life in general. Learning to be a good Triad might be difficult, becoming The Guardian Dean wanted to be might prove even harder, but the basic things he, Sam and Caleb already understood were the most important lessons Jim could have hoped to impart. Family comes first. Love allows us to forgive almost anything. Faith means believing you are deserving of forgiveness. Dean hadn't quite mastered the last one, but he was willing to keep trying.

He had been The Guardian of The Brotherhood just a few short months. In that time, he'd let his Knight and Scholar be kidnapped and tortured, butted heads with Mackland Ames, been tricked into letting a murderous witch back into their folds and pimped his Advisor to apprentice with a demon as a reward for his treachery. He'd allied his men with vampires, let an archenemy slip through his fingers, and the only damn thing he had to show for any of it was an ancient Italian text written by some old hag from Sicily. He was almost afraid to imagine what the coming years would bring if they survived the apocalypse, but he couldn't stop himself from hoping.

RCJ


End file.
